. . .Up, up and board, my gallant crew,
Cable and rope asunder hew!”

Till he was weary Alf he hew’d,
In fifteen Courtmen’s gore he stood.

He captured all the koggers nine,
And sailed for Norway o’er the brine.

To Rostock in the tiding goes,
Then palened many a cheek of rose.

Widow and child lamented sore,
This hurtful hawk had made them poor.

But they must thole this damage all,
Their tears but bootless, bootless fall.
   Know ye little Alf?

p. 8SIR ALF THE FREEBOOTER
Song the Second

Sir Alf will not stay in Norroway land,
   For he passes his time there wearily;
Full fifteen lordships in fief he holds,
   He can live thereout right merrily.

Sir Alf he walks on the verdant wold,
   Conning his breviary;
There meets him Bendit Rimaardson,
   For God of his sins was weary.

“Good morrow, good day, thou l. . . Read More