I heir not his ill-luck, I trow,

    Nor with his dool am shent."

   "The doom is thine, as thou art his,

    And to his curse, the heir;

   But never a luckless babe of mine

    That fearful curse shall bear!"

   A moody man was the lover then;

    But homeward as he hied,

   Beside the well at Lord Lowther's gate,

    An ugly dwarf he spied.

   "Out of my sight, thou fearsome thing;

    Out of my sight, I say:

   Or I will fling thine ugly bones

    To the crows this blessèd day."

   But the elfin dwarf he skipped and ran

    Beside the lover's steed,

   And ever as Muncaster's lord spurred on,

    The dwarf held equal speed.

   The lover he slackened his pace again,

    And to the goblin cried:

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