She walks these isles
And wants to know,
How fishers laugh
And flowers grow.
She's painting doorways vacancy.
        :She's a-coming so slow after me.

She's waiting for her one at sea,
She's weaving robes to dress for me,
She's bound to bind me to a tree.
        :She's a-coming so slow after me.

Her lovers sails the seven seas,
In growing knowledge with more ease.
We see the sails so near the shore.
    :She's a-coming so slow after me.

::He's running up the isle.
She's running down the isle.

The place they meet the ground is sound,
A light is lit - nothing is hid:
Now laughing fishers come from sea,
They give us flowers - he and she is me.