Act I, scene 1, lines 141-60 br br br br Poor old pilgrim Misery, br Beneath the silent moon he sate, br A-listening to the screech owl's cry, br And the cold wind's goblin prate; br Beside him lay his staff of yew br With withered willow twined, br His scant grey hair all wet with dew, br His cheeks with grief ybrined; br And his cry it was ever, alack! br Alack, and woe is me. br br Anon a wanton imp astray br His piteous moaning hears, br And from his bosom steals away br His rosary of tears: br With his plunder fled that urchin elf, br And hid it in your eyes, br Then tell me back the stolen pelf, br Give up the lawless prize; br Or your cry shall be ever, alack! br Alack, and woe is me.