Classic Poem

When Phaebus had melted the " sickles" of ice,
With a hey down, &c.
And likewise the mountains of snow,
Bold Robin Hood he would ramble away,
To frolick abroad with his bow.

He left all his merry men waiting behind,
Whilst through the green vallies he pass'd,
Where he did behold a forester bold,
Who cry'd out, Friend, whither so fast?

I am going, quoth Robin, to kill a fat buck,
For me and my merry men all;
Besides, ere I go, I'll have a fat doe,
Or else it shall cost me a fall.

You'd best have a care, said the forester then,
For these are his majesty's deer;
Before you shall shoot, the thing I'll dispute,
For I am head forester here.

These thirteen long summers, quoth Robin, I'm sure,
My arrows I here have let fly,
Where freely I range; methinks it is strange
You should have more power than I.

This forest, quoth Robin, I think is my own,
And so are the nimble deer too;
Therefore I declare, and solemnly swear,
I'll not be affronted by you.

The forester he had a long quarter-staff,
Likewise a broad sword by his side;
Without more ado, he presently drew
Declaring the truth should be try'd.

Bold Robin Hood had a sword of the best,
Thus, ere he would take any wrong,
His courage was flush, he'd venture a brush,
And thus they fell to it ding dong.

The very first blow that the forester gave,
He made his broad weapon cry twang;
'Twas over the head, he fell down for dead,
O that was a damnable bang!

But Robin he soon recovered himself,
And bravely fell to it again;
The very next stroke their weapons they broke,
Yet never a man there was slain.

At quarter-staff then they resolved to play,
Because they would have the other bout;
And brave Robin Hood right valiantly stood,
Unwilling he was to give out.

Bold Robin he gave him very hard blows,
The other return'd them as fast;
At every stroke their jackets did smoke;
Three hours the combat did last.

At length in a rage the forester grew,
And cudgel'd bold Robin so sore,
That he could not stand, so shaking his hand,
He cry'd, Let us freely give o'er.

Thou art a brave fellow, I needs must confess
I never knew any so good;
Thou art fitting to be a yeoman for me,
And range in the merry green wood.

I'll give thee this ring as a token of love,
For bravely thou hast acted thy part;
That man that can fight, in him I delight,
And love him with all my whole heart.

Robin Hood set his bugle-horn to his mouth,
A blast then he merrily blows;
His yeomen did hear, and strait did appear
A hundred with trusty long bows.

Now Little John came at the head of them all,
Cloath'd in a rich mantle of green;
And likewise the rest were gloriously drest,
A delicate sight to be seen!

Lo! these are my yeomen, said bold Robin Hood,
And thou shalt be one of the train:
A mantle and bow, and quiver also,
I give them whom I entertain.

The forester willingly enter'd the list,
They were such a beautiful sight;
Then with a long bow they shot a fat doe,
And made a rich supper that night.

What singing and dancing was in the green wood,
For joy of another new mate!
With might and delight they spent all the night,
And liv'd at a plentiful rate.

The forester ne'er was so merry before,
As then he was with these brave souls,
Who never would fail, in wine, beer, or ale,
To take off their cherishing bowls.

Then Robin Hood gave him a mantle of green,
Broad arrows, and curious long bow:
This done, the next day, so gallant and gay,
He marched them all on a row.

Quoth he, My brave yeomen, be true to your trust,
And then we may range the woods wide.
They all did declare, and solemnly swear,
They would conquer, or die by his side.