The Death of Robin Hood

‘Come bring my bow of English yew and raise me from this bed And let me look upon the wood where once I lay my head’ With fading sight and wearied limb through window rose he gazed With summoned strength and trembling arm his mighty bow was raised Sinews drawn to fullest test he let the arrow fly And sinking back upon his bed he breathed a heavy sigh ‘Follow yonder willow shaft through forests darkened keep For flighted by the angels, twill appoint where I shall sleep’ The stalwart oak tree caught the shaft, appointed by Gods grace Beside a brook, in bluebell’d wood, there marked his resting place In tunic Gold and Lincoln green, his sword upon his breast Beneath the trees of Sherwood green was Robyn laid to rest That mighty heart, its labour done, when stilled its Valliant quest All England mourned its stalwart son who bore the Locksley crest And through the silent forest, soft April showers wept To wash that place from hearts and minds, a secret ever kept One maid, one Friar, with little John, in sombre vigil stood In silent witness mourning, the passing of the Hood On England’s green and pleasant land was played a Hero’s part And Never more on sceptre’d isle will beat a truer heart