Up there upon the knap alwone,
Had woonce a bleäzèn kitchèn-vier,
That cook'd vor poor-vo'k an' a squier.
The very last ov all the reäce
That liv'd the squier o' the pleäce,
Died off when father wer a-born,
An' now his kin be all vorlorn
Vor ever,—vor he left noo son
To teäke the house o' mossy stwone.
An' zoo he vell to other hands,