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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She laid the blood-irons to Robin's vein,
Alack, the more pitye ! And pierc'd the vein, and let out the blood
That full red was to see.
And first it bled the thick, thick blood,
And afterwards the thin, And well then wist good Robin Hood
Treason there was within.
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood While one drop of blood wou'd run;
There did he bleed the live-long day, Until the next at noon.
xv He bethought him then of a casement there,
Being locked up in the room ; But was so weak he could not leap,
He could not get him down.
He bethought him then of his bugle-horn, That hung low down to his knee ;
He set his horn unto his mouth, And blew out weak blasts three.
Then Little John he heard the horn
Where he sat under a tree : ' I fear my master is now near dead,
He blows so wearilve.'
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