And his tears mingled with the still waters of the peat bog... 

"I brought you something darling!" 

And he saw clay fingers [bad word] from the mud! 

"I love you still!"

"My love liked to ride, so I'm giving her a horse's head. The rest is made of wood, but it hardly matters, 'cause she's dead! And my love had an eye for cameos and feathers for lapels. I don't have those, but I have a lot of pretty silver bells." 

"My love wore her hair in a darling mess of golden braids... To help her under there, I'm sending down one of her maids. And my love took her tea from a light-blue china service, and so that got buried first so she could calm herself in case of nervousness."