| She lived in storm and strife, |
| Her soul had such desire |
| For what proud death may bring |
| That it could not endure |
| The common good of life, |
| But lived as ’twere a king |
| That packed his marriage day |
| With banneret and pennon, |
| Trumpet and kettledrum, |
| And the outrageous cannon, |
| To bundle time away |
| That the night come. |