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Updated: May 21, 2025
Yet for the right The woodman holds the field; Now left, now right, repels the knight, His pole full stoutly wields. His whistle clear rings full of cheer, And lo! his comrades true, All swarth and lusty, with fire poles trusty, Burst on Sir Konrad's view. His horse's rein he grasps amain Into his selle to spring, His gold-spurred heel his stirrup's steel Has caught, his weapons ring.
"But he turned himself on his gold-spurred heel, And away, with a speechless frown; And up in the oak, with a greedy croak, The carrion-crow claimed his own. "The sun looked over a cloud of gold; Lady Margaret looked over the wall. Over the bridge rode Archibold; Behind him his merry men all. "He leads his band to the holy land. They follow with merry din.
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