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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On every side a rose garland,
They shot under the line : i Who fails of the garland,' said Robin,
' His tackle he shall tine,
' And yield it unto his master,
Be it never so fine ; For no man will I spare,' he said, ' So drink I ale or wine;
' And bear a buffet on his head
I-wis aright all bare :' And all that fell to Robin's lot He smote them wonder sair.
cccci Twice Robin shot about,
And ever he cleft the wand, And so did eke the good Gilbert
With the white hand.
Little John and good Scathelock, For nothing would they spare;
When they fail'd of the garland Robin smote them sair.
CCCCIII At the last shot that Robin shot,
For all his friendes fare, Yet he fail'd of the garland
Three fingers and mair.
tine] forfeit.
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