Childe Roland

My first thought was he lied in every word

That hoary cripple with malicious eye

Askance to watch the workings of his lie

On mine and mouth scarce able to afford

Suppression of the glee that pursed and scored

Its edge at one more victim gained thereby."

What else should he be set for with his staff?

What save to waylay with his lies ensnare

All travellers who might find him posted there And ask the road?

I guessed what skull-like laugh

Would break what crutch 'gin write my epitaph