My Lovely Lady Sleeps

She lives, my lovely lady,
on a lonely spot of land,
where the siren song of silence
calls the sparrow near to hand.
I shall take a trip to see her
tiny plot of sea and sand,
and it's there I'll love my lady
on her lonely spot of land.

Her narrow wooden house has
but a simple, pine-plank door
of the same unfinished timber
as her house's walls and floor.
I shall bring her wildflowers
which I know she will adore,
and I'll place them by the pathway
to her simple, pine-plank door.

With a grey stone overhead marking
the place my lady sleeps,
I sometimes speak to her and wish
that I might hear her weep.
For she's made nary a sound
since Father God claimed her to keep,
so I wait until the day I join
my lady in her sleep.