Till the King enjoys his own again.

Till then upon Ararat’s hill

My hope shall cast her anchor still,

Until I see some peaceful dove

Bring home the branch I dearly love;

Then will I wait till the waters abate

Which now disturb my troubled brain,

Else never rejoice till I hear the voice

That the King enjoys his own again.

A True Tale Of Robin Hood

Both gentlemen and yeomen bold,

Or whatsoever you are,

To have a stately story told

Attention now prepare:

It is a tale of Robin Hood,

Which I to you will tell;

Which, being rightly understood,

I know will please you well.

This Robin (so much talked on)

Was once a man of fame,

Instilled earl of Huntington,

Lord Robin Hood by name.

In courtship and magnificence

His carriage won him praise

And greater favor with his prince

Than any in those days.

In bounteous liberality

He too much did excell,

And loved men of quality

More than exceeding well.

His great revenues all he sold

For wine and costly chear;

He kept three hundred bow-men bold,

He shooting lov’d so dear.

No archer living in his time

With him might well compare;

He practis’d all his youthfull prime

That exercise most rare.

At last, by his profuse expence,

He had consumd his wealth,

And being outlawed by his prince,

In woods he liv’d by stealth.

The abbot of Saint Maries rich,

To whom he mony ought,

His hatred to this earle was such

That he his downefall wrought.

So being outlawed, as ’tis told,

He with a crew went forth

Of lusty cutters, stout and bold,

And robbed in the North.

Among the rest, one Little John,

A yeoman bold and free,

Who could, if it stood him upon,

With ease encounter three.

One hundred men in all he got,

With whom the story sayes,

Three hundred common men durst not

Hold combate any wayes.

They Yorkshire woods frequented much,

And Lancashire also,

Wherein their practises were such

That they wrought mickle woe.

None rich durst travell to and fro,

Though nere so strongly armd,

But by these theeves, so strong in show,

They still were robd and harmd.

His chiefest spight to the clergie was,

That lived in monstrous pride;

No one of them he would let passe

Along the high-way side,

But first they must to dinner goe,

And afterwards to shrift;

Full many a one he served so,

Thus while he livd by theft.

No monkes nor fryers he would let goe,

Without paying their fees;

If they thought much to be usd so,

Their stones he made them leese.

For such as they the country filld

With bastards in those dayes;

Which to prevent, these sparkes did geld

All that came by their wayes.

But Robbin Hood so gentle was,

And bore so brave a minde,

If any in distresse did passe,

To them he was so kinde

That he would give and lend to them,

To helpe them at their neede:

This made all poore men pray for him,

And wish he well might speede.

The widdow and the fatherlesse

He would send meanes unto,

And those whom famine did oppresse

Found him a friendly foe.

Nor would he doe a woman wrong,

But see her safe conveid;

He would protect with power strong

All those who crav’d his ayde.

The abbot of Saint Maries then,

Who him undid before,

Was riding with two hundred men,