BALLAD CONTINUED.
’Tis merry, ’tis merry, in good greenwood,
Though the birds have still’d their singing!
The evening blaze doth Alice raise,
And Richard is fagots bringing.
Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf,
Before Lord Richard stands,
And, as he cross’d and bless’d himself,
“I fear not sign,” quoth the grisly elf,
“That is made with bloody hands.”