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For though my ryme be ragged,
Tattered and jagged,

Rudely rayne beaten,
Rusty and moughte1 eaten,
If ye take well therwith,

It hath in it some pyth.

For, as farre as I can se,

It is wronge with eche degre;

For the temporalte

Accuseth the spiritualte;
The spirituall agayne

Dothe grudge and complayne
Upon the temporall men:
Thus eche of other blother'
The tone agayng the tother.
Alas, they make me shoder!
For in hoder moder
The Churche is put in faute. '
The prelates ben so haut,"
They say, and loke so hy,
As though they wolde fly
Above the sterry skye.
Laye-men say indede,
How they take no hede
Theyr sely shepe to fede,
But plucke away and pull
The fleces of theyr wull;
Unethes they leve a locke
Of wull amonges theyr flocke.
And as for theyr connynge,
A glommynge and a mummynge,

And make therof a jape;
They gaspe and they gape,

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With money, if it wyll hap, To catche the forked cap.

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In Paradyse to be.
Who shall, etc.

"O my swet store,
My true love therfore

Thy place yt ys above; What man may do more Than only dy therfore,

"

Lady, for thy love?

Who shall," etc.

II

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'Quho is at my windo? Quho? Quho? Go from my windo, go, go!

Quho callis thair

Sa lyke a strangair?

Go from my windo, go!"

"Lord I am heir, ane wretchit mortall That for thy mercy dois cry and call Unto the, my Lord celestiall.

Se quho is at thy windo, quho!"

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Forsothe they are to lewd To say so, all beshrewd!

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What cher? Gud cher! gud cher, gud cher !
Be mery and glad this gud Newyere!

"Lyft up your hartes and be glad,”
In Crystes byrth the angell bad;
Say eche to oder, yf any be sad,
"What cher," etc.

Now the kyng of hevyn his byrth hath take,
Joy and myrth we owght to make;

Say eche to oder for hys sake,
"What cher," etc.

I tell you all with hart so fre,
Ryght welcum ye be to me;
Be glad and mery, for charite!
"What cher," etc.

The gudman of this place in fere 1
You to be mery he prayth you here,
And with gud hert he doth to you say,
"What cher," etc.

III. CONVIVIAL SONGS

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4. "Sweavens are swift, master," quoth John, 'As the wind that blowes ore a hill;

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For if itt be never soe lowde this night,

To-morrow it may be still."

"Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all, For John shall goe with mee;

For I'le goe seeke yond wight yeomen

In greenwood where they bee."

6. They cast on their gowne of greene,
A shooting gone are they,

Until they came to the merry greenwood,
Where they had gladdest bee;

There were they ware of a wight yeoman,

His body leaned to a tree.

7. A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,
Had beene many a mans bane,
And he was cladd in his capull-hyde,
Topp, and tayle, and mayne.

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8. "Stand you still, master," quoth Litle John, "Under this trusty tree,

And I will goe to yond wight yeoman,
To know his meaning trulye."

9. "A, John, by me thou setts noe store, And that's a ffarley thinge;

IO.

4

How offt send I my men beffore,

And tarry my-selfe behinde?

"It is noe cunning a knave to ken;
And a man but heare him speake.
And itt were not for bursting of my bowe,
John, I wold thy head breake."

II. But often words they breeden bale;
That parted Robin and John.
John is gone to Barnesdale,

The gates he knowes eche one.

12. And when hee came to Barnesdale,
Great heavinesse there hee hadd;
He ffound two of his fellowes
Were slaine both in a slade,5

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"That ere thou grew on a tree!

For this day thou art my bale,

My boote when thou shold bee!"

17. This shoote it was but looselye shott,

The arrowe flew in vaine,

And it mett one of the sheriffes men;
Good William a Trent was slaine.

18. It had beene better for William a Trent
To hange upon a gallowe
Then for to lye in the greenwoode,

There slaine with an arrowe.

19. And it is sayd, when men be mett, Six can doe more than three: And they have tane Litle John,

And bound him ffast to a tree.

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20. "Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe," quoth the sheriffe,

"And hanged hye on a hill:"

"But thou may ffayle," quoth Litle John,
"If itt be Christs owne will."

21. Let us leave talking of Litle John,
For hee is bound fast to a tree,

And talke of Guy and Robin Hood

In the green woode where they bee.

22. How these two yeomen together they mett, Under the leaves of lyne,

To see what marchandise they made
Even at that same time.

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23. "Good morrow, good fellow," quoth Sir Guy; "Good morrow, good ffellow," quoth hee; "Methinkes by this bow thou beares in thy hand,

A good archer thou seems to bee."

24. "I am wilfull of my way," quoth Sir Guye, “And of my morning tyde:"'

"I'le lead thee through the wood," quoth Robin,

"Good ffellow, I'le be thy guide."

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