The maids they stood aloof,
While the young men made a proof.
Who had the nimblest heele,
Or who could dance so well,
Till Hob of the hill fell over, [? oe’r]
And over him three or four.
Up he got at last,
And forward about he past;
At Rowland he kicks and grins,
And he [? hit] William ore the shins;