By the swart brow, the star-bright eye,
The Gnome-king's presence grim!
He stands upon a time-worn block;
His dark form shades the snowy rock
As cypress marble tomb:
Nor fierce yet wild and sad his mien,
His cloud-black tresses wave and stream,
His deep tones break the gloom.
"Son of a tribe accursed, of those
Whose greed has broken our repose