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;