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This story will never go down.
This story will never go down.
In this spacious isle I think there is not one
But he hath heard some talk of Hood and read more
In this spacious isle I think there is not one
But he hath heard some talk of Hood and Little John,
Of Tuck, the merry friar, which many a sermon made
In praise of Robin Hood, his outlaws, and their trade.
Soft as some song divine, thy story flows.
Soft as some song divine, thy story flows.
A story, in which native humour reigns,
Is often useful, always entertains;
A graver fact, enlisted on read more
A story, in which native humour reigns,
Is often useful, always entertains;
A graver fact, enlisted on your side,
May furnish illustration, well applied;
But sedentary weavers of long tales
Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.
But that's another story.
But that's another story.
With a tale forsooth he cometh unto you, with a tale which
holdeth children from play, and old men read more
With a tale forsooth he cometh unto you, with a tale which
holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney corner.
Why do you laugh? Change but the name, and the story s told of
yourself.
[Lat., Quid rides?]
read more
Why do you laugh? Change but the name, and the story s told of
yourself.
[Lat., Quid rides?]
Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur.]
But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale read more
But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
