An’ smilèn husbands went in quest
O’ what their wives did like the best;
An’ you’d ha’ zeed a happy zight,
Thik merry night, at Herrenston.
An’ then the band, wi’ each his leaf
O’ notes, above us at the zide,
Plaÿ’d up the praïse ov England’s beef
An’ vill’d our hearts wi’ English pride;
An’ leafy chains o’ garlands hung,
Wi’ dazzlèn stripes o’ flags, that swung
Above us, in a bleäze o’ light,
Thik happy night, at Herrenston.
An’ then the clerk, avore the vier,
Begun to lead, wi’ smilèn feäce,
A carol, wi’ the Monkton quire.
That rung drough all the crowded pleäce.
An’ dins’ o’ words an’ laughter broke
In merry peals drough clouds o’ smoke;
Vor hardly wer there woone that spoke,
But pass’d a joke, at Herrenston.
Then man an’ maïd stood up by twos,
In rows, drough passage, out to door,
An’ gaïly beät, wi’ nimble shoes,
A dance upon the stwonèn floor.
But who is worthy vor to tell,
If she that then did bear the bell,
Wer woone o’ Monkton, or o’ Ceäme,
Or zome sweet neäme ov Herrenston.
Zoo peace betide the girt vo’k’s land,
When they can stoop, wi’ kindly smile,
An’ teäke a poor man by the hand,
An’ cheer en in his daily tweil.
