Wi' you a-lost where I do bide,
O Jessie Lee, in any pleäce
Your vaïce an' feäce ha' blest vor me.
I'm sure that when a soul's a-brought
To this our life ov aïr an' land,
Woone mwore's a-mark'd in God's good thought,
To help, wi' love, his heart an' hand.
An' oh! if there should be in store
An angel here vor my poor door,
'Tis Jessie Lee, vor sweet's the pleäce