THE GOLD THAT WAS WON WAS HER DAUGHTER

 

THE GOLD THAT WAS WON WAS HER DAUGHTER

Rumplestiltskin without pity

All this gold cannot be spun

For the want of trollish mercy

Ah the golden wont be won

So to straw was she confined

And could naught her sorrow hide

When a dull bargain she had made

To cast her child into the Shades

Still she found a mercy mild

In the Heavens for her child

And she saved her from distress

And the ending you know best.

You by anger so possessed

Rumplestiltskin without pity

Wounded so by envy’s shaft

Overthrown by his own wrath.

mary angela douglas 31 may 2024