For his name is Arthur-a-Bland.
Then Little John threw his staff away,
As far as he could it fling,
And ran out of hand to Arthur-a-Bland,
And about his neck did cling.
With loving respect, there was no neglect,
They were neither ‘nice’ nor coy,
Each other did face with a lovely grace,
And both did weep for joy.
Then Robin Hood took ‘them both’ by the hands,