The Oxford Book of Ballads - online book

A Selection Of The Best English Lyric Ballads Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch

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' Abide, thou proud. Sheriff,' he said,
' Abide, and speak with me ; Of some tidings of our King
I would fain hear of thee.
' This seven year, by dear-worthy God,
Ne yede I so fast on foot, I make mine avow to God, thou proud Sheriff,
It is not for thy good.'
Robin bent a full good bow,
An arrow he drew at will ; He hit so the proud Sheriff,
On the ground he lay full still.
And or he might up arise,
On his feet to stand, He smote off the Sheriff's head,
With his bright brand.
' Lie thou there, thou proud Sheriff;
Evil mote thou thrive : There might no man to thee trust
The while thou wert alive.'
His men drew out their brighte swords
That were so sharp and keen, And. iaiden on the Sheriff's men,
And drave them down bidene.
bidene] together.
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