( 43 ) 



CHAPTER lY. 



NEEDWOOD FOREST — MICHAEL TUENOR — MALABAR. 



THE OLD BROWN FOREST. 



I. 



Brown Forest of Mara ! whose bounds ^\•ere of yore, 



From Killsborrow's Castle outstretched to the shore, 



Our fields and our hamlets afforested then, 



That thy beasts might have covert — unhoused were our men. 



II. 



Our king the first William, Hugh Lupus our Earl, 

 Then poaching, I ween, was no sport for a churl ; 

 A noose for his neck who a snare should contrive. 

 Who skinn'd a dead buck was himself flay'd alive. 



III. 



Our Normandy nobles right dearly, I trow, 



They loved in the forest to bend the yew bow ; 



They wound their "recheat" and their "mort" on the horn, 



And they laughed the rude chase of the Saxon to scorn. 



IV. 



In right of his bugle and greyhounds, to seize 



Waif, pannage, agistment and windfallen trees, 



His knaves through our forest Ralph Kingsley dispers'd, 



Bow-bearer in chief to Earl Randle the first. 



V. 



This horn the Grand Forester wore at his side. 

 Whene'er his liege lord chose a hunting to ride ; 

 By Sir Ralph and his heu's for a century blown. 

 It passed from their lips to the mouth of a Done. 



