There's a girlie version ("THE YOUNG GIRL CUT DOWN IN HER PRIME") as the last song in the Penguin Book of English Folk Songs. I can't remember where I got this particular girlie version from because I've been singing it for so long, but it has pills of white mercury too:

As I was a-walking one midsummer's morning,
As I was a-walking one morning in May,
Well, who should I spy but my own daughter Mary
All wrapped up in woollens on a hot summer's day.

Oh mother, oh mother, come sit you down by me.
Sit you down by me, and pity my case.
It's of a young officer lately deserted.
See how he has left me in shame and disgrace.

Oh daughter, oh daughter, why didn't you tell me?
Why didn't you tell me? We'd have taken it in time.
I might have got salts and pills of white mercury,
But now I'm a young girl cut down in my prime.

Oh doctor, oh doctor, come wash up your bottles.
Wash up your bottles and wipe them quite dry.
My head it is aching. My poor heart is breaking,
And I in a deep solemn fashion must die.

Get six jolly fellows to carry my coffin,
Six pretty fair maids to follow my pall,
Give to each pretty fair maid a jug of brown ale,
Saying, "There go the bones of a true-hearted girl."

Come rattle your drums and play your fifes lowly.
Merrily play the dead marches along,
And over my coffin throw handfuls of laurels,
Saying, "There goes a true-hearted girl to her home".

Kitty

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 3-Oct-02.