We did dance, vull o' life,
To the sound o' the fife,
Or plaÿ at some geäme that poor Jeännet lik'd best.
Zoo happy wer we by the woaks o' the green,
Till we lost sister Jeännet, our pride;
Vor when she wer come to her last blushèn teen,
She suddenly zicken'd an' died.
An' avore the green leaves in the fall wer gone by,
The lightnèn struck dead
Her woaken tree's head,