Johny he has risen up i' the morn, Calls for water to wash his hands; But little knew he that his bloody hounds Were bound in iron bands, bands, Were bound in iron bands. Johny's mother has gotten word o' that, And care-bed she has tane: "O Johny, for my benison, I beg you'l stay at hame; For the wine so red, and the well baken bread, My Johny shall want nane. "There are seven forsters at Pickeram Side, At Pickeram where they dwell, And for a drop of thy heart's bluid They wad ride the fords of hell.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE IN TWILIGHT by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET SAVORING THE PAST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: OVER THE MACKINAC by KAREN SWENSON HUFFMAN'S PHOTOGRAPH OF THE GRAVES OF THE UNKNOWN AT LITTLE BIGHORN by KAREN SWENSON THE DEATH OF A PHOTOGRAPHER by KAREN SWENSON EPISTLE IN FORM OF A BALLAD TO HIS FRIENDS by FRANCOIS VILLON |