And leave poor Jenny tol complain:
My Sawndy's grown a faithless Loon,
And given, given Moggy that wild Heart;
Which eance he swore was aw my own,
But now weese me I've scarce a part.
Gang thy gate then perjur'd Sawndy,
Ise nea mere will Mon believe;
Wou'd Ise nere had trusted any,
They faw Thieves will aw deceive:
But gin ere Ise get mere Lovers,