The Song of Robin Hood and His Huntes Men (Poem into Song) Robin Hood in Early Modern English

Song: The Song of Robin Hood and His Huntes Men
Lyrics: (Copy from an 1885 printed book called "Robin Hood" "ROBIN HOOD, a Col­lec­tion of all the An­cient Poems, Songs and Bal­lads, now ex­tant, Rel­a­tive to that Cel­e­brat­ed En­glish Out­law; by Jo­seph Rit­son;". Chorus: The old epitaph is, by some anonymous hand, in a work entitled “Sepulchrorum inscriptiones; or a curious collection of 900 of the most remarkable epitaphs,” Westminster, 1727 (vol. ii. p. 73), thus not inelegantly paraphrased.)

Music: AI

The song of Robin Hood and his huntes-men.

Now wend we together, my merry men all,
Unto the forrest side a;
And there to strike a buck or a doae,
Let our cunning all be tried a.
Then goe we merrily, merrily on,
To the green-wood to take up our stand [a],
Where we will lye in waite for our game,
With our best bowes all in our hand [a].
What life is there like to bold Robin Hood?
It is so pleasant a thing a:
In merry Shirwood he spends his dayes,
As pleasantly as a king a.
No man may compare with bold Robin Hood,
With Robin Hood, Scathlocke and John [a]:
Their like was never, nor never will be,
If in case that they were gone [a].
They will not away from merry Shirwood,
In any place else to dwell [a]:
For there is neither city nor towne,
That likes them half so well [a].
Our lives are wholly given to hunt,
And haunt the merry greene-wood [a];
Where our best service is daily spent,
For our master Robin Hood [a].”

Chorus
“Here, underneath this little stone,
Thro’ Death’s assaults, now lieth one,
Known by the name of Robin Hood,
Who was a thief, and archer good;
Full thirteen years, and something more,
He robb’d the rich to feed the poor:
Therefore, his grave bedew with tears,
And offer for his soul your prayers.”