Who rides abroad so fierce and fast
Through the storm and the blinding rain,
And laughs aloud at the thunder’s blast
As he crosses the open plain?
’Tis the outlaw bold, so fierce and strong;
Like a hunted dog he flies,
But he laughs as he rides
With an oath and a song
To the goal that before him lies.
Who stays the fair maid’s trembling fear,
As she stands by her lone threshold,
And passes a cup of water clear
To the rider, grim and bold?

’Tis the outlaw he whose name none call
But whisper, and with fear,
But he harms no woman or child,
They all to him are ever dear;
But he harms no woman or child,
They all to him are ever dear.

Who is it sits ’neath the red hot sun,
And pulls at the heavy oar,
With a whip for his back
And a sentry’s gun,
While the sweat from his brow doth pour?
’Tis the outlaw, poor wretch,
They have got him fast,
But they won’t hold him there for long,
Though they think that his soul is crushed at last,
And their bars are safe and strong.

For the time will come when the outlaw he
Will escape to a land afar;
And he’ll rattle his chains
As he shouts with glee:
Ho! Ho! The outlaw’s free!