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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Forth then wente Robin Hood
Till he came to our King: ' My lord the King of Engeland,
Grant me mine asking !
' I made a chapel in Baraesdale
That seemly is to see, It is of Mary Magdalen,
And thereto would I be.
i I might never in this seven night
No time sleep nor wink, Neither all these seven days
Neither eat nor drink.
' Me longeth sore to Barnesdale,
I may not be therefro ; Barefoot and woolward I have hight
Thither for to go.'
ccccxliii ' If it be so,' then said our King,
i It may no better be ; Seven night I give thee leave,
No longer, to dwell from me.'
ccccxliv ' Gramerci, lord,' then said Robin,
And set him on his knee: He took his leave full courteously,
To green-wood then went he.
therefro] turned from it.           woolward] in a rough woollen
shirt (as penance).         hight] promised.
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