'Twor then hot tears roll'd daan mi cheek,

'Twor then aw felt mooast sad;

For shoo'd been sich a tender plant,

An' th' only lass we had.

But nah we're growin moor resign'd,

Although her face we miss;

For He's blest us wi another,

An we've hopes o' rearin this,


Give it 'em Hot.