Many was the modur son
To the kyrk with hym can fare.
In at the durres thei throly thrast
With staves ful gode ‘ilkone’ [353]
Alas, alas, seid Robyn Hode,
Now mysse I litulle Johne.
But Robyne toke out a too-hond sworde
That hangit down be his kne,
Ther as the schereff and his men stode thyckust
Thidurward wold he.