Oops, forgot the disclaimers again. Well, obviously I don't own Robin Hood or any of the other characters, because I am not Anon.
Le Morte d'Hood
The murmur round the firelight
Was stilled as one did stand:
As 'Little John' this man was known;
The pillar of the band.
His voice was choked, demeanour grave
His haunted eyes as black as sin
And quiet as the lonely depths
Did Little John begin:
"The sister could not save him-
-Ach, his wounds, they would not mend-
Our Lord has taken Robin-
And I was with him till the end."
A clamour rose; the gasps and cries
Grew like the strongest gale
But quiet, quietly did he
Continue with his tale.
"The day was gold and blue outside
But Robin was a-dying
I knew his heart felt cagéd
In the bed where he was lying.
"He knew the end was drawing near;
He wished once more to be free.
So summoned he his ragged breath
And called his last to me:
"'O Little John, my dearest friend,
My comrade, best of men,
You must know- of course you know
It won't be long till when-'
"His breathing choked, and staggered
And I feared the end was here
But stalwart Robin, brave to the last,
Gasped out into my ear:
"'O Little John, I see my bow;
This is my final stand.
Mark well my arrow's farewell flight;
Pray bury me where it lands.'
"And with his last strength mustered,
That arrow Robin drew;
The arrow's final voyage landed
Quivering and true..."
His tale was drawing to the end,
The crowd long twilight-covered.
He sighed, then spoke: "Our Robin lies,
At peace atop the cupboard."
09/05/02