"Young man, I think you're dying."
When he was dead, and laid in grave,
Her heart was struck with sorrow.
"O mother, mother!—make my bed,
For I shall die to-morrow!"
She, on her death bed as she lay,
Begg'd to be buried by him,
And sore repented of the day
That she did e'er deny him.
"Farewell!" she said, "ye maidens all,