She was sick and died very sudden,
Only two hours and a quarter,
About fifteen minutes dying.
Bloody water pouring out her mouth,
And her breath agoing, Poor little heart.
O dreadful melancholy I do feel for my dear,
She laid eggs till three days before her death,
She laid the most eggs, this four years around,
Than any hen I have on earth.
Soon my turn will come, and I must follow on,