Seaweed and string

On a misty dull day like today, close-ups are one of the few options. Here is one from the beach.

Herself and I had an upsurge of carols this morning, trying to remember the words for the best ones. We miss the good old Church of England carols - they aren't heard too often here in West Cork.

I think this is my favourite verse. I love the archaic language and the storytelling in it.

Hither, page, and stand by me, if thou know'st it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?
Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain;
Right against the forest fence, by Saint Agnes' fountain.

Can you sing it? And no slurring the notes together in the last bit!