Death's the lover that I'd be taking
Wild and fickle and fierce is he
Small's his care if my heart be breaking
Gay young Death would have none of me

Hear them clack of my haste to greet him!
No one other my mouth had kissed
I had dressed me in silk to meet him
False young Death would not hold the tryst

Slow's the blood that was quick and stormy
Smooth and cold is the bridal bed
I must wait till he whistles for me
Proud young Death would not turn his head

I must wait till my breast is wilted
I must wait till my back is bowed
I must rock in the corner, jilted
Death went galloping down the road

Gone's my heart with a trifling rover
Fine he was in the game he played
Kissed, and promised, and threw me over
And rode away with a prettier maid