At Chris'mas, gather'd girt an' small,
Vor me'th, avore their roarèn vier,
An! roun' their bwoard, 'ithin the hall;
An' there, in glitt'rèn rows, between
The roun'-rimm'd pleätes, our knives did sheen,
Wi' frothy eäle, an' cup an' can,
Vor maïd an' man, at Herrenston.
An' there the jeints o' beef did stand,
Lik' cliffs o' rock, in goodly row;
Where woone mid quarry till his hand