The Complete Works of Michael Drayton: Polyolbion and The harmony of the church

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J. R. Smith, 1876 - English poetry
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Page 165 - In this our spacious isle, I think there is not one, But he hath heard some talk of him and little John ; And to the end of time, the tales shall ne'er be done, Of Scarlock, George a Green, and Much the miller's son, Of Tuck the merry friar, which many a sermon made In praise of Robin Hood, his out-laws, and their trade.
Page 165 - Their baldrics set with studs, athwart their shoulders cast, To which under their arms their sheafs were buckled fast, A short sword at their belt, a buckler scarce a span, Who struck below the knee, not counted then a man : All made of Spanish yew, their bows were wondrous strong ; They not an arrow drew but was a cloth-yard long. Of archery they had the very perfect craft, With broad arrow, or but, or prick, or roving shaft...
Page 165 - An hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood, Still ready at his call, that bowmen were right good ; All clad in Lincoln green, with caps of red and blue...
Page 166 - And of these archers brave, there was not any one But he could kill a deer his swiftest speed upon, Which they did boil and roast, in many a mighty wood, Sharp hunger the fine sauce to their more kingly food. Then taking them to rest, his merry men and he Slept many a summer's night under the greenwood tree. From wealthy abbots...
Page 166 - ... abundant store, What oftentimes he took, he shared amongst the poor : No lordly bishop came in lusty Robin's way, To him before he went, but for his pass must pay : The widow in distress he graciously...
Page 166 - With birch and brazil piec'd to fly in any weather ; And shot they with the round, the square, or forked pile, The loose gave such a twang, as might be heard a mile.
Page 163 - Chevin call, Food to the tyrant Pike (most being in his power), Who for their numerous store he most doth them devour...
Page 152 - The dotterell which we think a very dainty dish, Whose taking makes such sport as man no more can wish ; For as you creep, or cowr, or lie, or stoop, or go, So marking you (with care) the apish bird doth do, And acting everything doth never mark the net, Till he be in the snare which men for him have set.
Page 163 - When as his season serves, stemming my tideful stream, Then being in his kind, in me his pleasure takes, (For whom the fisher then all other game forsakes) Which, bending of himself to th...
Page 31 - Give me those lines (whose touch the skilful ear to please) That gliding slow in state, like swelling Euphrates, In which things natural be, and not in falsely wrong, The sounds are fine and smooth, the sense is full and Strong: Not bombasled with words, vain ticklish ears to feed, But such as may content the perfect man to read.

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