The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle,
Under the jewelled twinkle of the stars of the winter sky.
And he came to the tavern door, where the alehouse sign out-swung,
And he tied his horse to a hook, and he walked right in and he flung
The door wide, and strode to the bar, and he cried with a merry cheer,
"Jerry! Jerry! Come! Bring me a quart of beer!"
And Jerry came with a quart of beer, and the highwayman sat him down,
And he drained his tankard, and smacked his lips, and laughed with the sound
Of a bugle blowing. And then he said, "Oh, Jerry, my friend!
I'm a robber; I'm a highwayman; and I've come to the very end.
"For to-morrow I die, and I ride to-night with a rope 'round my neck;
So fill me a tankard of wine; and fill it full to the neck;
And I'll drink a health to the parson, and one to the clerk, and one
To the hangman bold, and another to the king who has done me this wrong."
And he sat in his saddle and rode away.
Through the gusty trees, the moon that flies through the cloudy seas.
The wind that blows over the moor.
No highwayman came riding,
Riding-riding-
No highwayman came riding up to the old inn door.