BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



She was iron-sinew'd and satin-skinn'd, 

 Ribb'd like a drum and limb'd like a deer, 



Fierce as the fire and fleet as the wind — 

 There was nothing she couldn't climb or 

 clear — 



Rich lords had vex'd me, in vain, to part, 



For their gold and silver, with Britomarte. 



Next morn we muster'd scarce half a score 

 With the serving men, who were poorly 

 arm'd — 

 Five soldiers, counting myself, no more. 

 And a culverin, which might well have 

 harm'd 

 Us, had we used it, but not our foes. 



When, with horses and foot, to our doors 

 they came, 

 And a psalm-singer summoned us (through 

 his nose), 

 And deliver'd — "This, in the people's name, 

 Unto whoso holdeth this fortress here, 

 Surrender ! or bide the siege — John Kerr." 



'Twas a mansion built in a style too new, 



A castle by courtesy, he lied 



264 



