Long did I bear the heavy yoke, And many griefs attended; But to my comfort be it spoke, Now, now her life is ended. We liv'd full one-and-twenty years A man and wife together; At length from me her course she steer'd, And gone I know not whither: Would I could guess, I do profess, I speak, and do not flatter, Of all the woman in the world, I never could come at her. Her body is bestowed well, A handsome grave does hide her; But sure her soul is not in hell, The deil would ne'er abide her. I rather think she is aloft, And imitating thunder; For why, methinks I hear her voice Tearing the clouds asunder.