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Robin Hood And The Butcher

Come, all you brave gallants, and listen awhile,
With hey down, down, an a down,
That are in the bowers within;
For of Robin Hood, that archer good,
A song I intend for to sing.

Upon a time it chanced so,
Bold Robin in forrest did 'spy
A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare,
With his flesh to the market did hye.

'Good morrow, good fellow,' said jolly Robin,
'What food hast [thou]? tell unto me;
Thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,
For I like well thy company.'

The butcher he answer'd jolly Robin,
'No matter where I dwell;
For a butcher I am, and to Nottingham
I am going, my flesh to sell.'

'What's [the] price of thy flesh?' said jolly Robin,
'Come, tell it soon unto me;
And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear,
For a butcher fain would I be.'

'The price of my flesh,' the butcher repli'd,
'I soon will tell unto thee;
With my bonny mare, and they are not too dear,
Four mark thou must give unto me.'

'Four mark I will give thee,' saith jolly Robin,
'Four mark it shall be thy fee;
The mony come count, and let me mount,
For a butcher I fain would be.'

Now Robin he is to Nottingham gone,
His butchers trade to begin;
With good intent to the sheriff he went,
And there he took up his inn.

When other butchers did open their meat,
Bold Robin he then begun;
But how for to sell he knew not well,
For a butcher he was but young.

When other butchers no meat could sell,
Robin got both gold and fee;
For he sold more meat for one peny
Then others could do for three.

But when he sold his meat so fast,
No butcher by him could thrive;
For he sold more meat for one peny
Than others could do for five.

Which made the butchers of Nottingham
To study as they did stand,
Saying, 'Surely he 'is' some prodigal,
That hath sold his fathers land.'

The butchers stepped to jolly Robin,
Acquainted with him for to be;
'Come, brother,' one said, 'we be all of one trade,
Come, will you go dine with me?'

'Accurst of his heart,' said jolly Robin,
'That a butcher doth deny;
I will go with you, my brethren true,
As fast as I can hie.'

But when to the sheriffs house they came,
To dinner they hied apace,
And Robin Hood he the man must be
Before them all to say grace.

'Pray God bless us all,' said jolly Robin,
'And our meat within this place;
A cup of sack so good will nourish our blood,
And so do I end my grace.'

'Come fill us more wine,' said jolly Robin,
'Let us be merry while we do stay;
For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,
I vow I the reck'ning will pay.

'Come, 'brothers,' be merry,' said jolly Robin,
'Let us drink, and never give ore;
For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,
If it cost me five pounds and more.'

'This is a mad blade,' the butchers then said;
Saies the sheriff, 'He is some prodigal,
That some land has sold for silver and gold,
And now he doth mean to spend all.

'Hast thou any horn beasts,' the sheriff repli'd,
'Good fellow, to sell unto me?'
'Yes, that I have, good master sheriff,
I have hundreds two or three;

'And a hundred aker of good free land,
If you please it to see:
And Ile make you as good assurance of it,
As ever my father made me.'

The sheriff he saddled his good palfrey,
And, with three hundred pound in gold,
Away he went with bold Robin Hood,
His horned beasts to behold.

Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride,
To the forrest of merry Sherwood;
Then the sheriff did say, 'God bless us this day
From a man they call Robin Hood!'

But when a little farther they came,
Bold Robin he chanced to spy
A hundred head of good red deer,
Come tripping the sheriff full nigh.

'How like you my horn'd beasts, good master sheriff?
They be fat and fair for to see;'
'I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone,
For I like not thy company.'

Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,
And blew but blasts three;
Then quickly anon there came Little John,
And all his company.

'What is your will, master?' then said Little John,
'Good master come tell unto me;'
'I have brought hither the sheriff of Nottingham
This day to dine with thee.'

'He is welcome to me,' then said Little John,
'I hope he will honestly pay;
I know he has gold, if it be but well told,
Will serve us to drink a whole day.'

Then Robin took his mantle from his back,
And laid it upon the ground:
And out of the sheriffs portmantle
He told three hundred pound.

Then Robin he brought him thorow the wood,
And set him on his dapple gray;
'O have me commanded to your wife at home;'
So Robin went laughing away.

poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Robin Redbreast

Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, --
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.

Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! my Robin,
For pinching times are near.

The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheatstack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, --
Alas! in Winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.

poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs The Minstrel Sang

Its almost over its almost done
And you cant put the blame on anyone
Its almost easy and its almost fun
Did you get caught with your britches on
Hi derry day in the month of may
Was the song the minstrel sang
To the good of robin hood
Maid marion and all the gang
His aim was mean and his shot was clean
And his suit was the shade of evergreen
The folks he knew hadnt naught to fear
When the sheriff was there they were over here
Hi derry doon in the month of june
Was the song the minstrel sung
To the good of robin hoods
Good name and a place to run
He loved strong ale and a run down jail
Was the kind of a scene where he never failed
There was no man on the sea or land
Who could get maid marion on the trail
Hi derry day in the month of may
Was the song the minstrel sang
To the good of robin hood
Maid marion and all the gang
Its almost over its almost done
And you cant put the blame on marion
She almost made it to the friars gate
But the old wooden bridge wouldnt elevate
Hi derry doon in the month of june
Was the song the minstrel sung
To the good of robin hoods
Good name and a place to run

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death of Robin Hood

"Give me my bow," said Robin Hood,
"An arrow give to me;
And where 't is shot mark thou that spot,
For there my grave shall be."

Then Little John did make no sign,
And not a word he spake;
But he smiled, altho' with mickle woe
His heart was like to break.

He raised his master in his arms,
And set him on his knee;
And Robin's eyes beheld the skies,
The shaws, the greenwood tree.

The brook was babbling as of old,
The birds sang full and clear,
And the wild-flowers gay like a carpet lay
In the path of the timid deer.

"O Little John," said Robin Hood,
"Meseemeth now to be
Standing with you so stanch and true
Under the greenwood tree.

"And all around I hear the sound
Of Sherwood long ago,
And my merry men come back again,--
You know, sweet friend, you know!

"Now mark this arrow; where it falls,
When I am dead dig deep,
And bury me there in the greenwood where
I would forever sleep."

He twanged his bow. Upon its course
The clothyard arrow sped,
And when it fell in yonder dell,
Brave Robin Hood was dead.

The sheriff sleeps in a marble vault,
The king in a shroud of gold;
And upon the air with a chanted pray'r
Mingles the mock of mould.

But the deer draw to the shady pool,
The birds sing blithe and free,
And the wild-flow'rs bloom o'er a hidden tomb
Under the greenwood tree.

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robin Hood and Little John

When Robin Hood was about twenty years old,
With a hey down down and a down
He happend to meet Little John,
A jolly brisk blade, right fit for the trade,
For he was a lusty young man.

Tho he was calld Little, his limbs they were large,
And his stature was seven foot high;
Where-ever he came, they quak'd at his name,
For soon he would make them to fly.

How they came acquainted, I'll tell you in brief,
If you will but listen a while;
For this very jest, amongst all the rest,
I think it may cause you to smile.

Bold Robin Hood said to his jolly bowmen,
Pray tarry you here in this grove;
And see that you all observe well my call,
While thorough the forest I rove.

We have had no sport for these fourteen long days,
Therefore now abroad will I go;
Now should I be beat, and cannot retreat,
My horn I will presently blow.

Then did he shake hands with his merry men all,
And bid them at present good b'w'ye;
Then, as near a brook his journey he took,
A stranger he chancd to espy.

They happend to meet on a long narrow bridge,
And neither of them would give way;
Quoth bold Robin Hood, and sturdily stood,
I'll show you right Nottingham play.

With that from his quiver an arrow he drew,
A broad arrow with a goose-wing:
The stranger reply'd, I'll liquor thy hide,
If thou offerst to touch the string.

Quoth bold Robin Hood, Thou dost prate like an ass,
For were I to bend but my bow,
I could send a dart quite thro thy proud heart,
Before thou couldst strike me one blow.

'Thou talkst like a coward,' the stranger reply'd;
'Well armd with a long bow, you stand,
To shoot at my breast, while I, I protest,
Have nought but a staff in my hand.'

'The name of a coward,' quoth Robin, 'I scorn,
Wherefore my long bow I'll lay by;
And now, for thy sake, a staff I will take,
The truth of thy manhood to try.'

Then Robin Hood stept to a thicket of trees,
And chose him a staff of ground-oak;
Now this being done, away he did run
To the stranger, and merrily spoke:

Lo! see my staff, it is lusty and tough,
Now here on the bridge we will play;
Whoever falls in, the other shall win
The battel, and so we'll away.

'With all my whole heart,' the stranger reply'd;
'I scorn in the least to give out;'
This said, they fell to't without more dispute,
And their staffs they did flourish about.

And first Robin he gave the stranger a bang,
So hard that it made his bones ring:
The stranger he said, This must be repaid,
I'll give you as good as you bring.

So long as I'm able to handle my staff,
To die in your debt, friend, I scorn:
Then to it each goes, and followd their blows,
As if they had been threshing of corn.

The stranger gave Robin a crack on the crown,
Which caused the blood to appear;
Then Robin, enrag'd, more fiercely engag'd,
And followd his blows more severe.

So thick and fast did he lay it on him,
With a passionate fury and ire,
At every stroke, he made him to smoke,
As if he had been all on fire.

O then into fury the stranger he grew,
And gave him a damnable look,
And with it a blow that laid him full low,
And tunbld him into the brook.

'I prithee, good fellow, O where art thou now?
' The stranger, in laughter, he cry'd;
Quoth bold Robin Hood, Good faith, in the flood,
And floating along with the tide.

I needs must acknowledge thou art a brave soul;
With thee I'll no longer contend;
For needs must I say, thous hast got the day,
Our battle shall be at an end.

Then unto the bank he did presently wade,
And pulld himself out by a thorn;
Which done, at the last, he blowd a loud blast
Straitway on his fine bugle-horn.

The eccho of which through the vallies did fly,
At which his stout bowmen appeard,
All clothd in green, most gay to be seen;
So up to their master they steerd.

'O what's the matter?' quoth William Stutely;
'Good master, you are wet to the skin:'
'No matter,' quoth he; 'the lad which you see,
In fighting, hath tumbld me in.'

'He shall not go scot-free,' the others reply'd;
So strait they were seizing him there,
To duck him likewise; but Robin Hood cries,
He is a stout fellow, forbear.

There's no one shall wrong thee, friend, be not afraid;
These bowmen upon me do wait;
There's threescore and nine; if thou wilt be mine,
Thou shalt have my livery strait.

And other accoutrements fit for a man;
Speak up, jolly blade, never fear;
I'll teach you also the use of the bow,
To shoot at the fat fallow-deer.

'O here is my hand,' the stranger reply'd,
'I'll serve you with all my whole heart;
My name is John Little, a man of good mettle;
Nere doubt me, for I'll play my part.'

His name shall be alterd,' quoth William
Stutely, 'And I will his godfather be;
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least,
For we will be merry,' quoth he.

They presently fetchd in a brace of fat does,
With humming strong liquor likewise;
They lovd what was good; so, in the green wood,
This pretty sweet babe they baptize.

He was, I must tell you, but seven foot high,
And, may be, an ell in the waste;
A pretty sweet lad; much feasting they had;
Bold Robin the christning grac'd.

With all his bowmen, which stood in a ring,
And were of the Notti[n]gham breed;
Brave Stutely comes then, with seven yeomen,
And did in this manner proceed.

'This infant was called John Little,' quoth he,
'Which name shall be changed anon;
The words we'll transpose, so where-ever he goes,
His name shall be calld Little John.'

They all with a shout made the elements ring,
So soon as the office was ore;
To feasting they went, with true merriment,
And tippld strong liquor gillore.

Then Robin he took the pretty sweet babe,
And cloathd him from top to the toe
In garments of green, most gay to be seen,
And gave him a curious long bow.

'Thou shalt be an archer as well as the best,
And range in the greenwood with us;
Where we'll not want gold nor silver, behold,
While bishops have ought in their purse.

'We live here like squires, or lords of renown,
Without ere a foot of free land;
We feast on good cheer, with wine, ale, and beer,
And evry thing at our command.'

Then musick and dancing did finish the day;
At length, when the sun waxed low,
Then all the whole train the grove did refrain,
And unto their caves they did go.

And so ever after, as long as he livd,
Altho he was proper and tall,
Yet nevertheless, the truth to express,
Still Little John they did him call.

poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rocket Robin Hood

Come gather around me. Space travelers surround me.
Hark now to the ballad of Rocket Robin Hood.
I may well confound you, astound you, spellbound you,
With heroes and villains, the bad and the good.
Watch now as our rockets race here from afar.
For now, with our Robin, we live on a star.
Three. Two. One. Blast off!
Band of brothers, marching together.
Heads held high in all kinds of weather.
With fiery blasts, our roaring rockets rise,
Beyond the Earth, beyond the skies!
At the sight of Robin, take your stand,
With the gallant leader of our band.
Send a joyous shout throughout the land!
For Rocket Robin Hood!

poem by Todd Steussie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollywood

You talk so loud, you talk so much and you talk so funny
But honey, what are you talkin about
Something bout being, being reimbursed
For every unregistered virus
Drainpipes are filled up with dirty rain
And the leisure train is speeding in the diamond lane
With electricity shut off again
Leaving the night-life only for the madmen
Oh my god
Theyve sold hollywood
Burned down my neighborhood
Even shot robin hood
And oh my god
I guess it was never understood
To understand brotherhood
Right from wrong
And the bad from the good
Well, everybodys got their own smoke-screens
With personal armies for everyone in between
With plastic rifles given to every team
What a beautiful dream, even bullets have guarantees
And oh my god
Theyve sold hollywood
Burned down my neighborhood
Even shot robin hood
And oh my god
I guess it was never understood
To understand brotherhood
Right from wrong
And the bad from the good
Theres the sweetest evil image detector
As sweet as nectar, an overrated candy dispenser
She dont give food to eat or anybody, anyplace to sleep
But she can tell you, what you can and what you cant create
And oh my god
Theyve sold hollywood
Burned down my neighborhood
Even shot robin hood
Oh my god
I guess it was never understood
To understand brotherhood
Right from wrong
And the bad from the good
And oh my god
Theyve sold hollywood
Burned down my neighborhood
Even shot robin hood
And oh my god
Guess it was never understood
To understand brotherhood
Right from wrong
And the bad from the good

song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollywood

song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robin Hood's Flight

Robin Hood's mother, these twelve years now,
Has been gone from her earthly home;
And Robin has paid, he scarce knew how,
A sum for a noble tomb.

The church-yard lies on a woody hill,
But open to sun and air:
It seems as if the heaven still
Were looking and smiling there.

Often when Robin looked that way,
He looked through a sweet thin tear;
But he looked in a different manner, they say,
Towards the Abbey of Vere.

He cared not for its ill-got wealth,
He felt not for his pride;
He had youth, and strength, and health,
And enough for one beside.

But he thought of his gentle mother's cheek
How it sunk away,
And how she used to grow more weak
And weary every day;

And how, when trying a hymn, her voice
At evening would expire,
How unlike it was the arrogant noise
Of the hard throats in the quire:

And Robin thought too of the poor,
How they toiled without their share,
And how the alms at the abbey-door
But kept them as they were:

And he thought him then of the friars again,
Who rode jingling up and down
With their trappings and things as fine as the king's,
Though they wore but a shaven crown.

And then bold Robin he thought of the king,
How he got all his forests and deer,
And how he made the hungry swing
If they killed but one in a year.

And thinking thus, as Robin stood,
Digging his bow in the ground,
He was aware in Gamelyn Wood,
Of one who looked around.

"And what is Will doing," said Robin then,
"That he looks so fearful and wan?"
"Oh my dear master that should have been,
I am a weary man."

"A weary man," said Will Scarlet, "am I;
For unless I pilfer this wood
To sell to the fletchers, for want I shall die
Here in this forest so good.

"Here in this forest where I have been
So happy and so stout,
And like a palfrey on the green
Have carried you about."

"And why, Will Scarlet, not come to me?
Why not to Robin, Will?
For I remember thy love and thy glee,
And the scar that marks thee still;

"And not a soul of my uncle's men
To such a pass should come,
While Robin can find in his pocket or bin
A penny or a crumb.

"Stay thee, Will Scarlet, man, stay awhile;
And kindle a fire for me."
And into the wood for half a mile,
He has vanished instantly.

Robin Hood, with his cheek on fire,
Has drawn his bow so stern,
And a leaping deer, with one leap higher,
Lies motionless in the fern.

Robin, like a proper knight
As he should have been,
Carved a part of the shoulder right,
And bore off a portion clean.

"Oh, what hast thou done, dear master mine!
What hast thou done for me?"
"Roast it, Will, for excepting wine,
Thou shalt feast thee royally."

And Scarlet took and half roasted it,
Blubbering with blinding tears,
And ere he had eaten a second bit,
A trampling came to their ears.

They heard the tramp of a horse's feet,
And they listened and kept still,
For Will was feeble and knelt by the meat;
And Robin he stood by Will.

"Seize him, seize him!" the Abbot cried
With his fat voice through the trees;
Robin a smooth arrow felt and eyed,
And Will jumped stout with his knees.

"Seize him, seize him!" and now they appear
The Abbot and foresters three.
"'Twas I," cried Will Scarlet, "that killed the deer."
Says Robin, "Now let not a man come near,
Or he's dead as dead can be."

But on they came, and with an embrace
The first one the arrow met;
And he came pitching forward and fell on his face,
Like a stumbler in the street.

The others turned to that Abbot vain,
But "seize him!" still he cried,
And as the second turned again,
An arrow was in his side.

"Seize him, seize him still, I say,"
Cried the Abbot in furious chafe,
"Or these dogs will grow so bold some day,
Even priests will not be safe."

A fatal word! for as he sat
Urging the sword to cut,
An arrow stuck in his paunch so fat,
As in a leathern butt,

As in a leathern butt of wine;
Or dough, a household lump;
Or a pumpkin; or a good beef chine,
Stuck that arrow with a dump.

"Truly," said Robin without fear,
Smiling there as he stood,
"Never was slain so fat a deer
In good old Gamelyn wood."

"Pardon, pardon, Sir Robin stout,"
Said he that stood apart,
"As soon as I knew thee, I wished thee out,
Of the forest with all my heart.

"And I pray thee let me follow thee
Any where under the sky,
For thou wilt never stay here with me,
Nor without thee can I."

Robin smiled, and suddenly fell
Into a little thought;
And then into a leafy dell,
The three slain men they brought.

Ancle deep in leaves so red,
Which autumn there had cast,
When going to her winter-bed
She had undrest her last.

And there in a hollow, side by side,
They buried them under the treen;
The Abbot's belly, for all it's pride,
Made not the grave be seen.

Robin Hood, and the forester,
And Scarlet the good Will,
Struck off among the green trees there
Up a pathless hill;

And Robin caught a sudden sight,
Of merry sweet Locksley town,
Reddening in the sun-set bright;
And the gentle tears came down.

Robin looked at the town and land
And the church-yard where it lay;
And poor Will Scarlet kissed his hand,
And turned his head away.

Then Robin turned with a grasp of Will's,
And clapped him on the shoulder,
And said with one of his pleasant smiles,
"Now shew us three men bolder."

And so they took their march away
As firm as if to fiddle,
To journey that night and all next day
With Robin Hood in the middle.

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robin Hood

Now here’s the tale of a Derbyshire boy by the name of Robin Dean
who was born near to Buxton where the hills are so green.
His parents struggled to find enough food to feed their family,
so Robin and his brothers stole food regularly.

The gaunt looking Robin was caught stealing at the age of ten
and was sentenced to a life of servitude in the Hall at Elvasten.
He scrubbed floors, washed pots and pans, and cleaned cutlery,
but he dreamed of becoming the Earl’s Master of Archery.

At the age of twelve years he had to learn the ways of the land
and the gamekeeper made sure he was a reliable hand.
Before long he became a maker of longbows and arrows
he then as an archer won prizes at county shows.

King Richard asked his noblemen for men to fight the crusades,
he wanted the best archers and those who could swing blades.
Robin Dean was equipped and sent to fight the Lion Heart’s cause
he became honoured in battle, and won the King’s applause.

Time and time again he produced his archery long-range skills
and was knighted Sir Robin Dean of the Derbyshire Hills.
The King gave him land on the Derbyshire and Nottingham border
to provide a suitable income for a knight of the highest order.

After seven hard years of fighting, the crusades were not going well
King Richard had been captured and imprisoned in a cell.
He was put up for ransom and the cost was highest ever asked,
so the soldiers returned to England to raise gold by the cask.

A storm in the English Channel forced the ship Robin Dean was on
to sail up the coast and dock in the port of Lincoln’s Boston.
He travelled across the county to the land which belonged to him,
but in Nottingham he entered and gained an Archery Tournament win.

This caused eyebrows to be raised throughout the tournament day,
the Nobles didn’t like a stranger taking their prize money away.
Sir Robin Dean the archer, became well known from there on
and he was offered a place to stay at the Castle in Donington.

At supper the Baron asked many questions about the life of his guest,
but Robin said little, which left the Baron to guess.
They eventually said goodnight and went to their bedrooms to retire
and before the sun rose, Robin had left for his estate in Derbyshire.

Sir Robin’s estate bordered into a part of the huge Sherwood Forest
where he was held by robbers demanding the purse from his vest.
Though outnumbered he drew his sword and put up a courageous fight,
but they over powered him, and took him to their forest camp site.

He noticed that the outlaws had their families living with them too
they were struggling to live and robbing was all they could do.
Robin told their leader and that he too was of the same low birth,
and for his freedom he’d kill them a deer to prove his worth.

He convinced them that he had the archery skills to kill the deer
and wasn’t afraid if the Sheriff’s soldiers came near.
Into the forest he and two men went, armed with one arrow and bow
Robin saw a stag, took aim and let the arrow go.

The arrow travelled through the air and brought down the huge deer,
but as they went for their kill, soldiers trapped them front and rear.
The officer ordered their arrest, but Robin said that he had the right
for he owned the land by royal charter and by being the kings knight.

The officer asked for proof, so Robin showed him the Deed and Seal,
it was enough for their release, the Lionheart’s seal was real.
He told the soldiers that this time legal charges would not be brought,
but if they trespassed again he would take them to court.

They claimed their deer and returned to the camp within the forest,
everyone cheered and they dined on venison for breakfast.
The outlaws asked Robin if he would consider leading their band,
he agreed, but only until the king was back in England.

But from now on his identity must remain under his archer’s hood
and any money they stole would go to the cause of doing good.
As the leader he would take on the name of Robin with the hood
and everyone would know they stood for justice in Sherwood.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robin Hood, An Outlaw.

Robin Hood is an outlaw bold
Under the greenwood tree;
Bird, nor stag, nor morning air
Is more at large than he.

They sent against him twenty men,
Who joined him laughing-eyed;
They sent against him thirty more,
And they remained beside.

All the stoutest of the train,
That grew in Gamelyn wood,
Whether they came with these or not,
Are now with Robin Hood.

And not a soul in Locksley town
Would speak him an ill word;
The friars raged; but no man's tongue,
Nor even feature stirred;

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 turned
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,
Friendship, fall off from thee;
And, oh sound truth and old regard,
Nothing shall part us three.

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robin

Robin and Robin!
Come to my cabin.
We can play in
With fuss and fun.

You can fly being gay
And catch insect prey.
As you like you play:
I won’t be in the way.

A beauty is your tail.
How ably you waggle!
When in air you sail
You are not fragile.

When you sing a song,
By your tail you clang.
You hold it upright,
Swing it down to spread

And gather it up
Like a drum beat,
Much in a rhythm
To your crooning rhyme.

Black in white is good.
White in black is good.
You’re black and white
And are superbly bright.

Chest and dorsal are black.
Ventral is velvet white.
Wings too bear white
You are white by black.

Koel like is Latha;
You are my Asha,
With look seductive
And voice captive.

You are nice to sing..
You’re nicer by wing.
Love, can you spring?
I love you, Robin.

With me, you are free.
Anytime you can flee.
I make you happy
When you are with me.

Don’t feel it a sin
To be with me in.
You will have fun,
Which is your win

Robin and Robin!
Come to my cabin.
I’ll play a tune.
You rest and preen.
28.04.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pooh

POOH
You are cute little Pooh
You always say yah hooh

You are so fat
But you don't wear the hat

Your color is yellow
But you are really a jolly good fellow

You have only one red Tea shirt with one black shorts
But you look to me perfect

You always eat honey
But you are really very funny

Tiger, Piglet and Rabbit are your best friends
You always wear a friendship band in your hand

Christopher Robin takes care of you
And my all good wishes are with you

I hope you enjoyed a lot
I put one red flower in your pot

My all good thoughts are with you
I always say good luck to you

poem by Samra Haq
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Someone’s Daughter

Her mouth is coarse, her lipstick vulgar,
pearl glasses wide as any saucer,
her dress is dark as nakèd night,
her hair is in a sorry plight! -
Enough! - she too’s life’s brick and mortar,
and, flesh for flesh, is someone’s daughter.

© Jonathan Robin 15 January 1969
Someone's Daughter_19690115_Her mouth is coarse ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_0001_robi3_0000 XXX_MXX

poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Song of Sherwood

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake,
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon,
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Merry, merry England is waking as of old,
With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:
For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs:
Love is in the greenwood, dawn is in the skies,
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep!
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather.
The dead are coming back again, the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows.
All the heart of England his in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold
Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men--
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day--

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash,
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly,
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sherwood

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake;
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon;
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs;
Love it in the greenwood: dawn is in the skies;
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep:
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather;
The dead are coming back again; the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows;
All the heart of England hid in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold,
Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men;
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day;

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash;
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly;
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves:
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robin Hood And Guy Of Gisborne

When shawes been sheene, and shradds full fayre,
And leeves both large and longe,
Itt is merry, walking in the fayre forrest,
To heare the small birds songe.

The woodweele sang, and wold not cease,
Amongst the leaves a lyne:
And it is by two wight yeomen,
By deare God, that I meane.

'Me thought they did mee beate and binde,
And tooke my bow mee froe;
If I bee Robin a-live in this lande,
I'le be wrocken on both them towe.'

Sweavens are swift, master,' quoth John,
'As the wind that blowes ore a hill;
For if itt be never soe lowde this night,
To-morrow it may be still.'

'Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all,
For John shall goe with mee:
For I'le goe seek yond wight yeomen
In greenwood where the bee.'
^ TOP

The cast on their gowne of greene,
A shooting gone are they,
Untill they came to the merry greenwood,
Where they had gladdest bee;

There were the ware of a wight yeoman,
His body leaned to a tree.

A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,
Had beene many a man bane,
And he was cladd in his capull-hyde,
Topp, and tayle, and mayne.

'Stand you still, master,' quoth Litle John,
'Under this trusty tree,
And I will goe to yong wight yeomen,
To know his meaning trulye.'

'A, John, by me thou setts noe store,
And that's a farley thinge;
How offt send I my men beffore,
And tarry my-selfe behinde?

It is noe cunning a knave to ken,
And a man but heare him speake;
And itt were not for bursting of my bowe,
John, I wold thy head breake.'

But often words they breeden bale,
That parted Robin and John;
John is gone to Barnesdale,
The gates he knowes eche one.
^ TOP

And when hee came to Barnesdale,
Great heavinesse there hee hadd;
He found two of his fellowes
Were slaine both in a slade.

And Scarlett a foote flyinge was,
Over stockes and stone,
For the sheriffe with seven score men
Fast after him is gone.

'Yett one shoote I'le shoote', sayes Little John,
'With Crist his might and mayne;
I'le make yond fellow that flyes soe fast
To be both glad and faine.'

John bent up a good viewe bow,
And fetteled him to shoote;
The bow was made of a tender boughe,
And fell downe to his foote.

'Woe worth thee, wicked wood,' sayd Little John,
'That ere thou grew on a tree!
For this day thou art my bale,
My foote when thou shold bee!'

This shoote it was but looselye shott,
The arrowe flew in vaine,
And it mett one of the sheriffes men;
Good William a Trent was slaine.

It had beene better for William a Trent
To hange upon a gallowe
Then for to lye in the greenwoode,
There slaine with an arrowe.

And it is syd, when men be mett,
Six can doe more then three:
And they have tane Litle John,
And bound him fast to a tre.

'Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe,' quoth the sheriffe,
And hanged hye on a hill:
'But thou may fayle,' quoth Litle John,
'If itt be Christs owne will.'

Let us leave talking of Little John,
For hee is bound fast to a tree,
And talke of Guy and Robin Hood,
In the green woode where they bee.

How these two yeomen together they mett,
Under the leaves of lyne,
To see what merchandise they made
Even at that same time.

'Good morrow, good fellow,' quoth Sir Guy:
'Good morrow, good fellow,' quoth hee;
'Methinkes by this bow thou beares in thy hand,
A good archer thou seems to bee.'

'I am wilfull of my way,' quoth Sir Guye,
'And of my morning tyde:'
'I'le lead thee through the wood,' quoth Robin,
'Good fellow, I'le be thy guide.'

'I seeke an outlaw,' quoth Sir Guye,
'Men call him Robin Hood;
I had rather meet with him upon a day
Then forty pound of golde.'

'If you tow mett it wold be seene whether were better
Afore yee did part awaye;
Let us some other pastime find,
Good fellow, I thee pray.
^ TOP

'Let us some other masteryes make,
And wee will walke in the woods even;
Wee may chance meet with Robin Hoode
Att some unsett steven.'

They cutt them downe the summer shroggs
Which grew both under a bryar,
And sett them three score rodd in twinn,
To shoote the prickes full neare.

'Leade on, good fellow,' sayd Sir Guye,
'Lead on, I doe bidd thee:'
'Nay, by my faith,' quoth Robin Hood,
'The leader thou shalt bee.'

The first good shoot that Robin ledd
Did not shoote an inch the pricke froe;
Guy was an archer good enoughe,
But he cold neere shoote soe.

The second shoote Sir Guy shott,
He shotte within the garlande;
But Robin Hoode shott it better then hee,
For he clove the good pricke-wande.

'Gods blessing on thy heart!' sayes Guye,
'Goode fellow, they shooting is goode;
For an thy hart be as good as thy hands,
Thou were better then Robin Hood.

'Tell me thy name, good fellow,' quoth Guy,
'Under the leaves of lyne:'
'Nay, by my faith,' quoth good Robin,
'Till thou have told me thine.'

'I dwell by dale and downe,' quoth Guye,
'And I have done many a curst turne;
And he that calles me by my right name
Calles me Guye of good Gysborne.'
^ TOP

'My dwelling is in the wood,' sayes Robin;
'By thee I set right nought;
My name is Robin Hood of Barnesdale,
A fellow thou has long sought.

He that had neither beene a kithe nor kin,
Might have seene a full fayre sight,
To see how together these yeomen went,
With blades both browne and bright.

To have seene how these yeomen together fought,
Two howers of a summers day;
Itt was neither Guy nor Robin Hood
That fettled them to flye away.

Robin was rechles on a roote,
And stumbled at that tyde,
And Guy was quicke and nimble withall,
And hitt him ore the left side.

'Ah, deere Lady!' sayd Robin Hoode,
'Thou are both mother and may!
I thinke it was never mans destinye
To dye before his day.'

Robin thought on Our Lady deere,
And soone leapt up againe,
And thus he came with an awkwarde stroke;
Good Sir Guy hee has slayne.

He tooke Sir Guys head by the hayre,
And sticked itt on his bowes end:
'Thous hast beene traytor all thy liffe,
Which thing must have an ende.'

Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe,
And nicked Sir Guy in the face,
That hee was never on a woman borne
Cold tell who Sir Guye was.
^ TOP

Saies, 'Lye there, lye there, good Sir Guye,
And with me be not wrothe;
If thou have had the worse stroakes at my hand,
Thou shalt have the better cloathe.'

Robin did off his gowne of greene,
Sir Guye hee did it throwe;
And hee put on that capull-hyde,
That cladd him toppe to toe.

'The bowe, the arrowes, and little horne,
And with me now I'le beare;
For now I will goe to Barnesdale,
To see how my men doe fare.'

Robin sett Guyes horne to his mouth,
A lowd blast in it he did blow;
That beheard the sheriffe of Nottingham,
As he leaned under a lowe.

'Hearken! hearken!' sayd the sheriffe,
'I heard noe tydings but good;
For yonder I heare Sir Guyes horne blowe,
For he hath slaine Robin Hoode.

'For yonder I heare Sir Guyes horne blow,
Itt blowes soe well in tyde,
For yonder comes that wighty yeoman,
Cladd in his capulll-hyde.

Come hither, thou good Sir Guy,
Aske of me what thou wilt have:'
'I'le none of thy gold,' sayes Robin Hood,
'Nor I'le none of it have.'
^ TOP

'But now I have slaine the master,' he sayde,
'Let me goe strike the knave;
This is all the reward I aske,
Nor noe other will I have.'

'Thou art a madman,' said the shiriffe,
'Thou sholdest have had a knights fee;
Seeing thy asking hath beene soe badd,
Well granted it shall be.'

But Litle John heard his master speake,
Well he knew that was his steven;
'now shall I be loset,' quoth Litle John,
'With Christs might in heaven.'

But Robin hee hyed him towards Litle John,
Hee thought hee wold loose him believe;
The sheriffe and all his companye
Fast after him did drive.

'Stand abacke! stand abacke!' sayd Robin;
'Why draw you mee soe neere?
Itt was never the use in our countrye
One's shrift another shold heere.'

But Robin pulled forth an Irysh kniffe,
And losed John hand and foote,
And gave him Sir Guyes bow in his hand,
And bade it be his boote.

But John tooke Guyes bow in his hand -
His arrowes were rawstye by the roote -
The sheriffe saw Litle John draw a bow
And fettle him to shoote.

Towards his house in Nottingham
He fled full fast away,
And soe did all his companye,
Not one behind did stay.

But he cold neither soe fast goe,
Nor away soe fast runn,
But Litle John, with an arrow broade,
Did cleave his heart in twinn.

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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How Robin and His Outlaws Lived in The Woods

Robin and his merry men
: Lived just like the birds;
They had almost as many tracks as thoughts,
: And whistles and songs as words.

Up they were with the earliest sign
Of the sun's up-looking eye;
But not an archer breakfasted
Till he twinkled from the sky.

All the morning they were wont
To fly their grey-goose quills
At butts, or wands, or trees, or twigs,
Till theirs was the skill of skills.

With swords too they played lustily,
And at quarter-staff;
Many a hit would have made some cry,
Which only made them laugh.

The horn was then their dinner-bell;
When like princes of the wood,
Under the glimmering summer trees,
Pure venison was their food.

Pure venison and a little wine,
Except when the skies were rough;
Or when they had a feasting day;
For their blood was wine enough.

And story then, and joke, 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! it was a sight to see
Their feathers float about;--

A pleasant sight, especially
: If Margery was there,
Or little Ciss, or laughing Bess,
: Or Moll with the clumps of hair;

Or any other merry lass
: From the neighbouring villages,
Who came with milk and eggs, or fruit,
: A singing through the trees.

For all the country round about
: Was fond of Robin Hood,
With whom they got a share of more
: Than the acorns in 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.

Only on the haughty rich,
: 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 an abbot a pig in grain,
But a bishop was a baron of beef,
: With cut and come again.

Never poor man came for help,
And wnet away denied;
Never woman for redress,
And went away wet-eyed.

Says Robin to the poor who came
: To ask of him relief,
You do but get your goods again,
: That were altered by the thief;

There, ploughman, is a sheaf of your's
: Turned to yellow gold;
And, miller, there's your last year's rent,
: 'Twill wrap thee from the cold:

And you there, Wat of Lancashire,
: Who such a way have come,
Get upon your land-tax, man,
: And ride it merrily home.

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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The Robin.

little red robin outside the glass
catching all the rain on a dreary day
i knew nothing of his past
but i felt familiar with him anyway

red-chest robin with his face in the dirt
all his friends were slimy little worms
he called the dry, thin twigs his perch
mothers keep your kids away; he’s crawling with germs

little red robin, how could you be
the brown-mask bandit of the maple tree
little red robin, can you hear my plea –
get down from up high before you feel too free

i knew it couldn’t belong until the sprig would break
a grim “cheerio! ” to the world he cried
his little red soul then the lord did take
when he swooped into the pane and died

poem by Ginny S.
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The Robin is the One

828

The Robin is the One
That interrupt the Morn
With hurried—few—express Reports
When March is scarcely on—

The Robin is the One
That overflow the Noon
With her cherubic quantity—
An April but begun—

The Robin is the One
That speechless from her Nest
Submit that Home—and Certainty
And Sanctity, are best

poem by Emily Dickinson
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