. . . . . .
The overlooker met her
As to her frame she crept;
And with his thong he beat her,
And cursed her when she wept.
It seemed as she grew weaker,
The threads the oftener broke,
The rapid wheels ran quicker,
And heavier fell the stroke.”
The song goes on to tell the sad story of her death while her “pitying comrades” were carrying her home to die, and ends:—