Never mwore can she veel his warm feäce in her breast,
(Under the green elem tree),
Vor his eyes be a-shut, an' his hands be at rest,
An' he's now vrom his païn a-zet free;
Vor his soul, we do know, is to heaven a-vled,
Where noo païn is a-known, an' noo tears be a-shed.
