'I'm only sick because my heart is broke.
My friend, a man, my oldest friend here, died.
I had to see the man who killed him, tried.
He's to be hanged. Only a boy. My friend.
I thought him just a boy; I didn't know.
And Ern was killed, and now the boy's to end,
And all because he thought he loved me so.'
'My dear,' the lady said; and Anna, 'Oh.
It's very hard to bear the ills men make,
He thought he loved, and it was all mistake.'