“It begins like this.” And in a voice almost as modulated as the wood-pigeon’s own, the drooping head by Wolf’s side swayed slowly to the rhythm of the following stanza:

The Slowworm of Lenty curses God;

He lifts his head from the heavy sod;

He lifts his head where the Lenty willow

Weeps green tears o’er the rain-elf’s pillow;

For the rain-elf’s lover is fled and gone,

And none curseth God but the Slowworm alone.