Except among a very few,

Who dined in the Abbey halls;

And then with a sigh bold Robin knew

His true friends from his false.

There was Roger the monk, that used to make All monkery his glee;

And Midge, on whom Robin had never turn'd His face but tenderly ;

With one or two, they say, besides―

Lord that in this life's dream
Men should abandon one true thing,
That would abide with them.

We cannot bid our strength remain,
Our cheeks continue round;
We cannot say to an aged back,
Stoop not towards the ground:

We cannot bid our dim eyes see

Things as bright as ever,

Nor tell our friends, though friends from youth, That they'll forsake us never :

But we can say, I never will,

False world, be false for thee;

And, oh Sound Truth and Old Regard,
Nothing shall part us three.

HOW ROBIN AND HIS OUTLAWS LIVED IN THE WOODS.

ROBIN and his merry men

Liv'd just like the birds;

They had almost as many tracks as thoughts,
And whistles and songs as words.

All the morning they were wont
To fly their grey-goose quills

At butts, or trees, or wands and twigs,
Till theirs was the skill of skills.

With swords, too, they played lustily,

And at quarter-staff;

Buffets oft their forfeits were,

Fit to twirl a calf.

Friends who join'd the sport were bound

Those hazards to endure ;

But foes were lucky to carry away
What took a year to cure.

The horn was then their dinner-bell;
When, like princes of the wood,
Under the state of summer trees,

Pure venison was their food.

M

Pure venison and good ale or wine,
Except when luck was chuff;

Or grant 'twas Adam's ale; what then?
Their blood was wine enough.

And story then, and jest, and song,
And Harry's harp went round;

And sometimes they'd get up and dance,
For pleasure of the sound.

Tingle, tangle! said the harp,

As they footed in and out:

Good Lord! was ever seen a dance

At once so light and stout?

A pleasant sight, especially
If Margery was there,

Or little Ciss, or laughing Bess,

That tired out six pair;

From the neighbouring villages,

Who came with milk and eggs, or fruit,
A singing through the trees.

Only they say the men were given
Too often to take wives,

And then, 'twixt forest and a shop,

Lead strange half-honest lives.

But all the country round about

Was fond of Robin Hood,

With whom they got a share of more
Than fagots from the wood.

Nor ever would he suffer harm,
To woman, above all;

No plunder, were she ne'er so great,
No fright to great or small;

No, not a single kiss unliked,

Nor one look-saddening clip;
Accurst be he, said Robin Hood,
Makes pale a woman's lip.

And then, oh then, Maid Marian came
From her proud brother's hall,
With a world of love and tears,

And smiles behind them all.

They built her bowers in forests three,
To flit from one to t'other,

And Robin and she reign'd as pleasant to all,
As faithful to one another.

Only upon the Normans proud,
And on their unjust store,

He'd lay his fines of equity

For his merry men and the poor.

And special was his joy, no doubt,
(Which made the dish to curse)
To light upon a good fat friar,
And carve him of his purse.

A monk to him was a toad in the hole,
And a priest was a pig in grain,
But a bishop was a baron of beef,

To cut and come again.

To ask of him relief,

You do but get your goods again

That were altered by the thief.

See here now is a plump new coin,
And here's a lawyer's cloak,

And here's the horse the bishop rode,

When suddenly he woke.

Well, ploughman, there's a sheaf of yours

Turn'd to yellow gold;

And, miller, there's your last year's rent, "Twill wrap thee from the cold.

And you there, Wat of Herefordshire,
Who such a way have come,
Get upon your land-tax, man,

And ride it merrily home.