Wor jealous o' her, an' him, then—
For angels has noa chaps to love 'em,
Love's nobbut for wimmin an' men.
But th' love i' her heart ovvercame her,
An' shoo pitied th' whole angel thrang,
Aw know what love is, an' dooant blame her,
An' aw dooant think her pity wor wrang.
Th' story wor towd, an' for ever
It wor noa gurt shakes what might befall;
Nowt but deeath, these two hearts could sever,