An' lofty-lo'ted rooms inside;
An' wi' the stwonèn pworch avore
The naïl-bestudded woaken door,
That had a knocker very little
Less to handle than a bittle,
That het a blow that vled so loud
Drough house as thunder drough a cloud.
An' meäde the dog behind the door
Growl out so deep's a bull do roar.
In all the house, o' young an' wold,