Page:The Lay of the Last Minstrel - Scott (1805).djvu/66

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57

'Twas said, when the Baron a hunting rode,
Through Reedsdale's glens, but rarely trod,
He heard a voice cry, "Lost! lost! lost!"
And, like a tennis-ball by raquet tossed,
A leap, of thirty feet and three,
Made from the gorse this elfin shape,
Distorted like some dwarfish ape,
And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee.
'Tis said that five good miles he rade,
To rid him of his company;
But where he rode one mile, the dwarf ran four,
And the dwarf was first at the castle door.

XXXII.
Use lessens marvel, it is said.
This elvish Dwarf with the Baron staid;
Little he eat, and less he spoke,
Nor mingled with the menial flock;