And snore upon ye ground.
Ye log to a dimme blue flame has died,
When ye doore of ye banquet halle
Is opened wide, and in there glyde
Twelve spectral Hagges ande Talle.
Ye log burns dimme, and eke more dimme,
Loud groans each knyghtlie gueste,
As ye ghoste of his grandmother, gaunt and grimme,
Sitts on each knyghte hys cheste.
Ye log in pieces twaine doth falle,