In a land where stags are many,
One fell sick, and not any
Of all his friends, delayed to come,
To offer aid and consolation,
In his sorrowful situation.
Said he, "My friends, pray let me die
In the right way, nor shed such tears."
Not at all, the consolers,
With many a tear, and many a sigh,
Had come resolved by him to lie;
And when they left they helped themselves
Upon his lands, the greedy elves!
And drank from out his brook,
And every one of them such suppers took,
That when the stag revived,
He found his meals reduced;
So that while his friends had thrived,
He had to fast or die of hunger.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]