As he do die out like the t’other three,
I’ll take another man (if one do ask).
Woman and man apart be like a cask
Without a bung, letting Life’s cider out,
The Almighty made to drink withouten doubt.
I never could abode the thought o’ waste
Whether of Life or cider, fit for taste.
But love him, Miss, you ask?—why, that I can,
And thank the Lord I could love any man.