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John Hamilton Reynolds - Sonnet I. On Robin Hood
Work rating: Low

Robin the outlaw! Is there not a mass
Of freedom in the name? -- It tells the story 
Of clenched oaks, with branches bow`d and hoary,
Leaning in aged beauty o`er the grass;--
Of dazed smile on cheek of border lass
Listening `gainst some old gate at his strange glory:
And of the dappled stag, struck down and gory,
Lying with nostril wide in green morass.

It tells a tale of forest days -- of times
That would have been most precious unto thee:
Days of undying pastoral liberty:--
Sweeter than music old of abbey chimes--
Sweet as the virtue of Shakespearian rhymes--
Days, shadowy with the magic green-wood tree!
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