I could send a dart quite thro thy proud heart,
Before thou couldst strike me one blow.
10
‘Thou talkst like a coward,’ the stranger reply’d;
‘Well armd with a long bow you stand,
To shoot at my breast, while I, I protest,
Have nought but a staff in my hand.’
11
‘The name of a coward,’ quoth Robin, ‘I scorn,
Wherefore my long bow I’ll lay by;