(Watson: It was not until the next day, as we lunched at Merripit House, that Sir Henry made the acquaintance of Miss Stapleton. From the first moment that he saw her, he appeared to be strongly attracted by her, and I am sure the feeling was mutual.)

If she'd turn and look my way
I'm sure that I would gladly stay and spend my last days looking at her face
A maiden fair you must agree, the finest lady you will see
My words cannot do justice to her grace
And when the moon descends, the day begins anew
Her beauty brings a stillness to the dawn
A picture of a lady, picture of a lady, picture of a lady like you

A single rose I'd gladly give, with humble heart I'd surely live
If I could ever have someone so pure
A hand so fair I can't comprend, as why the lady has no friend
With whom she can live out her days in joy
And when the sun descends, the eve begins anew
Her beauty brings a stillness to the night
A picture of a lady, picture of a lady, picture of a lady like you

She holds a secret to her heart, a life of mystery in part
I wonder if I'll ever know its cause
It's tearing her apart inside, this secret life that she must hide
And never tell a soul her tale of woe
And when the moon descends, the day begins anew
Her beauty brings a sadness to the dawn
A picture of a lady, picture of a lady, picture of a lady like you
A picture of a lady, picture of a lady, picture of a lady like you

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