_When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,_
_A highwayman comes riding--_
_Riding--riding--_
_A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door._

10

_Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;_
_And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is
locked and barred;_
_He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there_
_But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,_
_Bess, the landlord's daughter,_
_Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair._


THE BLUE CLOSET: WILLIAM MORRIS

THE DAMOZELS

Lady Alice, Lady Louise,
Between the wash of the tumbling seas
We are ready to sing, if so you please;
So lay your long hands on the keys;
Sing "_Laudate pueri._"

_And ever the great bell overhead_
_Boom'd in the wind a knell for the dead,_
_Though no one toll'd it, a knell for the dead._