The Old Courtier. 137 THE OLD COURTIER. N old song made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate; Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier. With an old lady whose anger one word assuages; They every quarter paid their old servants their wages, And never knew what belonged to coachman, footman, nor pages, But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges; Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier. With an old study filled full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks, With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen, that maintained half a dozen old cooks; Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier. With an old hall hung about with pikes, guns, and bows, With old swords, and bucklers, that had born many shrewd blows, And an old frieze coat to cover his worship's trunk hose, And a cup of old sherry to comfort his copper nose; Like an old courtier of the queen's, With a good old fashion when Christmas was come And the queen's old courtier. With an old falconer, huntsman, and a kennel of hounds, And the queen's old courtier. OLD SONG. JOHN BARLEYCORN. WHERE were three kings into the East, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and ploughed him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath, John Barleycorn was dead. But the cheerful spring came kindly on, And showers began to fall; And sore surprised them all. John Barleycorn. The sultry suns of summer came, And he grew thick and strong, His head well armed wi' pointed spears, The sober autumn entered mild, His colour sickened more and more, He faded into age; And then his enemies began To show their deadly rage. They've ta'en a weapon long and sharp, And cut him by the knee; And tied him fast upon the cart, Like a rogue for forgerie. They laid him down upon his back, They filled up a darksome pit They laid him out upon the floor, 139 They wasted, o'er a scorching flame, But a miller used him worst of all, For he crushed him between two stones. And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood, John Barleycorn was a hero bold, For if you do but taste his blood, Then let us toast John Barleycorn, And may his great posterity Ne'er fail in old Scotland! BURNS. ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD. OME will talk of bold Robin Hood, And some of barons bold; But I'll tell you how he served the Bishop of Hereford, When he robbed him of his gold. As it befell in merry Barnsdale, All under the greenwood tree, The Bishop of Hereford was to come by, Robin Hood and the Bishop. "Come kill me a ven'son," said bold Robin Hood, "Come kill me a good fat deer; The Bishop of Hereford is to dine with me to-day, And he shall pay well for his cheer. "We'll kill a fat ven'son," said bold Robin Hood, And we will watch the bishop narrowly, Robin Hood dressed himself in shepherd's attire, With six of his men also; And when the Bishop of Hereford came by, "O what is the matter?" then said the bishop, "We are shepherds," said bold Robin Hood, And we are disposed to be merry this day, "You are brave fellows," said the bishop, "And the king your doings shall know: Therefore make haste and come along with me, For before the king you shall go." "O pardon, O pardon," said bold Robin Hood, "O pardon, I thee pray! For it becomes not your lordship's coat To take so many lives away." 141 |