Old Robin Of Portingale Poem Rhyme Scheme

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 2 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Wonderful Women
by Umaru Kanneh Boima
Freedom To Scratch In Peace
by Olute Aete
Happy New Year
by Felix Menda
Human Beings
by Dana Graslie
Lust
by Wisdom Greatness
An Isolated Tree's Song
by Sayeed Abubakar
A Strange Boy
by Sayeed Abubakar
O Soil
by Sayeed Abubakar
No War, No War-monger
by Sayeed Abubakar
Night's Town
by Sayeed Abubakar

Popular Poets

1. Emily Dickinson(2414 poems)
2. Madison Julius Cawein(1231 poems)
3. Ella Wheeler Wilcox(1136 poems)
4. William Wordsworth(1016 poems)
5. Robert Burns(986 poems)
6. Edgar Albert Guest(945 poems)
7. Thomas Moore(849 poems)
8. Robert Service(831 poems)

Let the mayors daughter of Lin God wott	A
He chose her to his wife	B
And thought with her to have lived in love	C
But they fell to hate and strife	B
	-
They scarce were in their wee bed laid	A
And scarce was hee asleepe	D
But upp shee rose and forth shee goes	E
To the steward and gan to weepe	D
	-
'Sleepe you wake you faire Sir Gyles	F
Or be you not within	G
Sleepe you wake you faire Sir Gyles	F
Arise and let me inn '	-
	-
'O I am waking sweete ' he said	A
'Sweete ladye what is your will '	-
'I have unbethought me of a wile	H
How my wed lord weel spill	I
	-
'Twenty four good knights ' shee sayes	F
'That dwell about this towne	J
Even twenty four of my next cozens	F
Will helpe to dinge him downe	J
	-
All that beheard his litle foote page	K
As he watered his masters steed	A
And for his masters sad perille	I
His verry heart did bleed	A
	-
He mourned sighed and wept full sore	L
I sweare by the holy roode	A
The teares he for his master wept	A
Were blent water and bloude	A
	-
And that beheard his deare master	M
As he stood at his garden pale	I
Sayes 'Ever alacke my litle footpage	K
What causes thee to wail	I
	-
'Hath any one done to thee wronge	K
Any of thy fellowes here	N
Or is any of thy good friends dead	A
That thou shedst manye a teare	N
	-
'Or if it be my head bookes man	O
Aggrieved he shal bee	P
For no man here within my howse	F
Shall doe wrong unto thee '	-
	-
'O it is not your head bookes man	O
Nor none of his degree	P
But on to morrow ere it be noone	Q
All deemed to die are yee	P
	-
'And of that bethank your head steward	A
And thank your gay ladye '	-
'If this be true my litle foot page	K
The heyre of my land thoust bee '	-
	-
'If it be not true my dear master	M
No good death let me die '	-
'If it be not true thou litle foot page	K
A dead corse shalt thou lie	I
	-
'O call now downe my faire ladye	P
O call her downe to mee	P
And tell my ladye gay how sicke	R
And like to die I bee '	-
	-
Downe then came his ladye faire	S
All clad in purple and pall	I
The rings that were on her fingers	F
Cast light throughout the hall	I
	-
'What is your will my owne wed lord	A
What is your will with mee '	-
'O see my ladye deere how sicke	R
And like to die I bee '	-
	-
'And thou be sicke my owne wed lord	A
Soe sore it grieveth me	P
But my five maydens and myselfe	B
Will 'watch thy' bedde for thee	P
	-
'And at the waking of your first sleepe	D
We will a hott drinke make	R
And at the waking of your 'next' sleepe	D
Your sorrowes we will slake '	-
	-
He put a silk cote on his backe	R
And mail of many a fold	A
And hee putt a steele cap on his head	A
Was gilt with good red gold	A
	-
He layd a bright browne sword by his side	A
And another att his feete	A
'And twentye good knights he placed at hand	A
To watch him in his sleepe '	-
	-
And about the middle time of the night	A
Came twentye four traitours inn	G
Sir Giles he was the foremost man	O
The leader of that ginn	G
	-
Old Robin with his bright browne sword	A
Sir Gyles head soon did winn	G
And scant of all those twenty four	L
Went out one quick agenn	G
	-
None save only a litle foot page	K
Crept forth at a window of stone	G
And he had two armes when he came in	G
And he went back with one	G
	-
Upp then came that ladye gaye	P
With torches burning bright	A
She thought to have brought Sir Gyles a drinke	R
Butt she found her owne wedd knight	A
	-
The first thinge that she stumbled on	G
It was Sir Gyles his foote	A
Sayes 'Ever alacke and woe is mee	P
Here lyes my sweete hart roote '	-
	-
The next thinge that she stumbled on	G
It was Sir Gyles his heade	A
Sayes 'Ever alacke and woe is mee	P
Heere lyes my true love deade '	-
	-
He cutt the papers beside her brest	A
And didd her body spille	I
He cutt the eares beside her heade	A
And bade her love her fille	I
	-
He called then up his litle foot page	K
And made him there his heyre	L
And sayd 'Henceforth my worldlye goodes	F
And countrye I forsweare '	-
	-
He shope the crosse on his right shoulder	L
Of the white 'clothe' and the redde	A
And went him into the Holy Land	A
Wheras Christ was quicke and dead	A

Anonymous Olde English

Old Robin Of Portingale Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Write your comment about Old Robin Of Portingale poem by Anonymous Olde English

Recent Interactions*

New Poems

Popular Poets