Isn't a lovely night 
And so alive 
With fireflies 
Providing us their holy light 

And here we made a bed of boughs 
And thistle down 
That we had found 
To lay upon the dewey ground 

And isn't it a lovely day 
We got in from our play 
Isn't it ? 
A sweet little baby 

And wasn't it a lovely breeze 
That swept the leaves 
Of arbor reeves 
And bent a brush of blushing knees 

And here we died our little deaths 
And we were left to catch our breaths 
So swiftly lifting from our chests 

And isn't a lovely way 
We got in from our play 
Isn't it ? 
A sweet little baby