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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ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK
XXX
Robyn into the churche ran,
Throout hem everilkon . . . [Then word is gone to his yemen
In grene-vvode wher they wone.]
XXXI
Sum fel in swonyng as thei were dede,
And lay stil as any stone; Non of theym were in her mynde
But only Litull John.
XXXII
'  Let be your rule,' seid Litull John,
' Ffor his luf that dyed on tre ; Ye that shulde be dughty men,
Het is gret shame to se.
XXXIII
' Oure maister has bene hard bystode
And yet scapyd away ; Pluk up your herds, and leve this mone,
And harkyn what I shal say.
XXXIV
' He has seruyd Oure Lady many a day,
And yet wil, securly ; Therfor I trust in hir specialy No wyckud deth shal he dye.
xxxv
' Therfor be glad,' seid Litull John,
' And let this mournyng be ; And I shal be the munkis gyde,
With the myght of mylde Mary.'
wone] dwelt.         rule] ' taking on,' lamenting.        dughty]
doughty mone] moan. gyde] be the guide = take charge of.
5Qo
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