Robbins Library Digital Projects Announcement: We are currently working on a large-scale migration of the Robbins Library Digital Projects to a new platform. This migration affects The Camelot Project, The Robin Hood Project, The Crusades Project, The Cinderella Bibliography, and Visualizing Chaucer.
While these resources will remain accessible during the course of migration, they will be static, with reduced functionality. They will not be updated during this time. We anticipate the migration project to be complete by Summer 2025.
If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us directly at robbins@ur.rochester.edu. We appreciate your understanding and patience.
While these resources will remain accessible during the course of migration, they will be static, with reduced functionality. They will not be updated during this time. We anticipate the migration project to be complete by Summer 2025.
If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us directly at robbins@ur.rochester.edu. We appreciate your understanding and patience.
An Hour of Robin Hood
O for an hour with Robin Hood, deep, deep in the forest green,
With fern and budding bramble waving o'er me as a screen,
In mid noon shade,
Where the hot-breath'd Trade
Came never the boughs between.
O for an hour of Robin Hood, and the brave health of the free,
Out of the noisome smoke to where the earth breathes fragrantly,
Where heaven is seen,
And the smile serene
Of heavenliest liberty.
O for the life of Robin Hood, to wander an outlaw free
Rather than crawl in the market-place of human slavery:
Better with men
In the wildest glen,
Than palaced with Infamy.
My life for a breath of Robin Hood, with the arrow before my eye
And a tyrant but within bow-shot reach: how gladly could I die
With the fame of Tell,
With Robin so well
Embalm'd in history.
O but to rest, like Robin Hood, beneath some forest-green,
Where the wild-flowers of the coming spring on my mouldering heart may lean;
For England's sward
Is trampled hard
With the journeyings of the Mean.
With fern and budding bramble waving o'er me as a screen,
In mid noon shade,
Where the hot-breath'd Trade
Came never the boughs between.
O for an hour of Robin Hood, and the brave health of the free,
Out of the noisome smoke to where the earth breathes fragrantly,
Where heaven is seen,
And the smile serene
Of heavenliest liberty.
O for the life of Robin Hood, to wander an outlaw free
Rather than crawl in the market-place of human slavery:
Better with men
In the wildest glen,
Than palaced with Infamy.
My life for a breath of Robin Hood, with the arrow before my eye
And a tyrant but within bow-shot reach: how gladly could I die
With the fame of Tell,
With Robin so well
Embalm'd in history.
O but to rest, like Robin Hood, beneath some forest-green,
Where the wild-flowers of the coming spring on my mouldering heart may lean;
For England's sward
Is trampled hard
With the journeyings of the Mean.
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