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 dewy ground And isn't it a lovely way We got in from our play Isn't it babe A sweet little baby And wasn't it a lovely breeze That swept the leaves Of arbor eaves And bent a brush o'er blushing knees And here we died our little deaths And we were left to catch our breath So swiftly lifting from our chests And isn't a lovely way We got in from our play Isn't it babe A sweet little baby