O Mary! view my wasted back,
And see my dwindled calf;
Tho' I have never had a wife,
I've lost my better half.
Alas, in vain he still assail'd,
He heart withstood the dint;
Though he had carried sixteen stone
He could not move a flint.
Worn out, at last he made a vow
To break his being's link;