When she did meet wi' vo'k a-know'd
The best, her love did speak in tears.
She walk'd wi' thee, an' had noo fears
O' thy unkindness, till she zeed
Herzelf a-cast off lik' a weed,
An' hope a-left behind her.
Thy slight turn'd peäle her cherry lip;
Her sorrow, not a-zeed by eyes,
Wer lik' the mildew, that do nip
A bud by darksome midnight skies.