Argument.--For a jest, the king disguises himself and his men once more, this time in Lincoln green, which he purchases off Robin Hood. The whole party proceeds to Nottingham, where the appearance of so many green mantles cause...
Argument.--The story now returns to the Sheriff of Nottingham, and relates how he offered a prize for the best archer in the north. Robin Hood, hearing of this match, determines to go to it, and to test the sheriff's faith to h...
Argument.--Robin Hood will not dine until he has 'his pay,' and he therefore sends Little John with Much and Scarlok to wait for an 'unketh gest.' They capture a monk of St. Mary Abbey, and Robin Hood makes him disgorge eight h...
Argument.--The knight goes to York to pay down his four hundred pounds to the abbot of St. Mary Abbey, who has retained the services of the high justice of England 'with cloth and fee,' an offence defined as conspiracy by statu...
Argument.--The king, coming with a great array to Nottingham to take Robin Hood and the knight, and finding nothing but a great scarcity of deer, is wondrous wroth, and promises the knight's lands to any one who will bring him ...
Argument.--The Sheriff of Nottingham secures the assistance of the High Sheriff, and besets the knight's castle, accusing him of harbouring the king's enemies. The knight bids him appeal to the king, saying he will 'avow' (i.e....
Argument.--The narrative of the knight's loan is for the moment dropped, in order to relate a gest of Little John, who is now (81.2) the knight's 'knave' or squire. Going forth 'upon a mery day,' Little John shoots with such sk...
Ghosts walk the Earth, that rise not from the grave. The Dead Past hath its living dead. We see All suddenly, at times, and shudder then, Their faces pale, and sad accusing eyes. ...
Rain will fall on the fading flowers, Winds will blow through the dripping tree, When Fall leads in her tattered Hours With Death to keep them company. All night long in the weeping weather,...
There is a house beside a way, Where dwells a ghost of Yesterday: The old face of a beauty, faded, Looks from its garden: and the shaded Long walks of locust-trees, that seem...
Not long in bed had Lyndhurst lain, When, as his lamp burned dimly, The ghosts of corporate bodies slain,[1] Stood by his bedside grimly. Dead aldermen who once could feast,...
My gift would find thee fast asleep, And arise a dream in thee; A violet sky o'er the roll and sweep Of a purple and pallid sea; And a crescent moon from my sky should creep In the golden dream to thee....
We plucked a red rose, you and I, All in the summer weather; Sweet its perfume and rare its bloom, Enjoyed by us together. The rose is dead, the summer fled, And bleak winds are complaining;...
"Child of my love, why wearest thou That pensive look and thoughtful brow? Can'st gaze abroad on this world so fair And yet thy glance be fraught with care? Roses still bloom in glowing dyes,...
Across the miles that stretch between, Through days of gloom or glad sunlight, There shines a face I have not seen Which yet doth make my world more bright.
Across the miles that stretch between, Through days of gloom or glad sunlight, There shines a face I have not seen Which yet doth make my world more bright.