A rough cord, a tough cord,
A cord that bowmen love;
So we'll drain our jacks
To the English flax
And the land where the hemp was wove.

What of the shaft?
The shaft was cut in England:
A long shaft, a strong shaft,
Barbed and trim and true;
So we'll drink all together
To the gray goose feather,
And the land where the gray goose flew.

What of the men?
The men were bred in England:
The bowman--the yeoman--
The lads of dale and fell.
Here's to you--and to you!
To the hearts that are true
And the land where the true hearts dwell.

SIR A. CONAN DOYLE.

* * * * *




THE ROAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND.