Isabella (Orchestral version) Contemporary Folk

Released August 18, 2014

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Sound Recording

PLUS
James Fraser ("offthewall")
South Shields near Newcastle Tyneside United Kingdom
Other releases
Acoustic guitars, production.
PRO
Joel Sattler ("joel_sattlersongs")
Chevy Chase Maryland USA
Other releases
Lyrics and adaptation.
PLUS
Kevin Skiles ("lincredible54")
Salem Oregon USA
Other releases
Musical composition and guidance.
Ted Campbell ("TedC")
Dallas Texas USA
Other releases
Orchestration. Cellos, flute, oboe.
PLUS
Denise F ("LadyD")
Newcastle United Kingdom
Other releases
Vocals and final lyric revisions.
Artist's Notes

When we did this song I was trying to get my LadyD back into singing after a long break.

I commissioned Joel and Kevin to come up with this adaptation of one of her favourite poems.

Lyrics

ISABELLA, OR THE POT OF BASIL song lyrics by Joel Sattler,

revised by Denise Fraser

based on the poem by John Keats,

based on a story by Boccaccio

 

Fair Isabella loved a lad wrong for her

Her brothers' vassal, a common labourer

Lorenzo had a love so pure

Such burning heat could scarce endure

Each day their love it grew more sure

A malady with no cure

 

The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave

Barely deserving of the place that they gave

They conspired, they would take his life

She would never be his wife

 

They led him to the wood and laid him down

Told Isabella he could not be found

Taken a ship for foreign lands

To wander alone on distant sands

Thinking they were free, ?twas not to be

They had joined the damned

 

The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave

Barely deserving of the place that they gave

They conspired, then they took his life

She would never be his wife

 

Lorenzo came to Isabella in a dream

Said in the forest I am buried by a stream

Said come and find me where I'm dead

Don't be afraid that's what he said

She found the body and there she took his head

Placed it in a pot instead

 

The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave

Barely deserving of the place that they gave

They conspired, and then took his life

She would never be his wife

 

She filled the pot with basil at the top

Watered it with tears, would leave it not

The brothers watched her as she pined

Stole the vase only to find

The sight within, it horrified

Triumph within them, it died.

 

The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave

Barely deserving of the place that they gave

They conspired, and then took his life

She would never be his wife

 

Grieving Isabella, sad on vast estate

No love, no family, all to do was wait

Wait for the hour of her death

The last long drawing of her breath

 

The moment that her life at last would end

To be with her Lorenzo once again ....

They conspired, but they took her life

 

She will never be his wife.