Page:Egyptian Myth and Legend (1913).djvu/88

His colour sicken’d more and more,
 He faded into age;
And then his enemies began
 To show their deadly rage.

They’ve ta’en a weapon long and sharp,
 And cut him by the knee;
Then ty’d him fast upon a cart,
 Like a rogue for forgerie.

They laid him down upon his back,
 And cudgell’d him full sore;
They hung him up before the storm,
 And turn’d him o’er and o’er.

They fillèd up a darksome pit
 With water to the brim,
They heavèd in John Barleycorn—
 There let him sink or swim.

They laid him out upon the floor,
 To work him farther woe;
And still, as signs of life appear’d,
 They tossed him to and fro.

They wasted, o’er a scorching flame,
 The marrow of his bones;
But the miller us’d him worst of all,
 For he crush’d him between two stones.

And they hae ta’en his very heart’s blood,
 And drank it round and round;
And still the more and more they drank,
 Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold
 Of noble enterprise;
For if you do but taste his blood,
 ’T will make your courage rise.