And she was happy, happy still
Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill.
| 1815 | |
| ... on that woful day A cruel, cruel fire, they say, Into her bones was sent: It dried her body like a cinder, And almost turn'd her brain to tinder. | 1798 |
... on that woful day
A cruel, cruel fire, they say,
Into her bones was sent:
It dried her body like a cinder,
And almost turn'd her brain to tinder.
| 1836 | |
| 'Tis said, a child was in her womb, As now to any eye was plain; 'Tis said, her lamentable state Even to a careless eye was plain; Alas! her lamentable state | 1798 1820 1827 |
'Tis said, a child was in her womb,
As now to any eye was plain;
'Tis said, her lamentable state
Even to a careless eye was plain;
Alas! her lamentable state