With coat of Lincoln green and mantle too,
And horn of ivory mouth, and buckle bright,
And arrows wing'd with peacock-feathers light,
And trusty bow well gather'd of the yew,--
Stands Robin Hood: -- and near, with eyes of blue
Shining through dusk hair, like the stars of night,
A habited in pretty forest plight,--
His green-wood beauty sits, young as the dew.

Oh gentle-tressed girl! Maid Marian!
Are thine eyes bent upon the gallant game
That stray in the merry Sherwood: thy sweet fame
Can never, never die. And thou, high man,
Would we might pledge thee with thy silver Can
Of Rhenish, in the woods of Nottingham!