He stayed not for bog, he stayed not for briar,

    Nor stayed he for flood or fell;

   Nor ever he slackened his courser's rein,

    Till he stood by the Lowthers' well.

   Beside that well was a castle fair,

    In that castle a fair lady;

   In that lady's breast was a heart of stone,

    Nor might it softened be.

   "Now smooth that brow of scorn, fair maid,

    And to my suit give ear;

   There's never a dame in Cumberland,

    Such a look of scorn doth wear."

   "Haste, haste thee back," the lady cried,

    "For a doomed man art thou;

   I wed not the heir of Muncaster,

    Thy '

     Luck

    ' is broken now!"

   "Oh say not so, for on my sire

    Th' unerring doom was spent;

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