One time a man known as Rumpelstiltskin,

Passed through a town and by a castle so grand,

With towers to see over all of the land,

And he heard a young maiden crying from within.

He clambered the wall to her chamber, wherein

Sat a mound of straw, high as a man could stand,

Near to a lass weeping and wailing into her hands,

For into gold, the straw she was to spin.

Ol’ Stiltskin agreed to help complete the task;

He spun all night and a payment he did request,

So the lass gave to him her necklace.

Twice more for his help the maiden did ask,

But only her ring was worthy and precious,

So her first born child she did promise.

 

Upon her third success of weaving straw to gold,

The lass did marry the king of the castle,

For with her riches his life would have no hassle,

A wonderful happening for both to behold.

A few years had passed and the lass had a child to hold,

Yet forgot about her promise to the gold-spinning rascal,

Who, one day, appeared among the curtain tassels,

And demanded the child given to him in the promise she told.

Rumpelstiltskin was obstinate and not too friendly,

For he had waited years for his payment day,

And did not care to bargain, much to the queen’s dismay.

The woman did weep and beg to pay differently,

But he would not relent and whisked the child away,

For as man requites with death for life, ev’ry debt must be paid.