Crown me a c, while I pray

    A blessing on thy years, young Isola;

    Young, but no more a c have flown

    to me times, a woman grown

    Beneath my heedless eyes! in vain I rack

    My fancy to believe the almanac,

    t speaks ty-One. t ill

    remaind a c thy sovereign will

    Gambold about our imes past.

    Ungrateful Emma, to gro,

    ening to leave tent,

    Fond Runagate, be t:

    After some ty years, spent in such bliss

    As till we miss

    Sometire, mayst thou grow old

    As ! t wish was cold.

    O far more aged and ill folks say,

    Looking upon thee reverend in decay,

    quot;tues rare,

    ited Grandsire may compare.quot;

    Grandc respected Isola,

    t  this day

    Kind looks of Parents, to congratulate

    to ate.

    But t to advance

    tunes , and oo chance

    ture grudged. And t find,

    Or make suc blind

    to t last strain

    oo muc. fill again

    Anot, while I say

    quot; Isola.quot;