THE
FLIGHT
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|
HE
came riding up to the gates by night.
Ride
swift!
An hundred horsemen to left and to right;
Ride
swift!
An hundred torches did glimmer and quiver,
|
5 |
And
she leaped to his arms as the brook to the river;
Ride
swift!
He
hath borne her away from castle and bower,
Ride
long!
Thunder they under the dark night hour;
|
10 |
Ride
long!
Thunder they on her kinsmen to meet;
And horror and death in the blackness and sleet;
Ride
long!
Two
phantom riders have hurled to the sea;
|
15 |
Ride
still!
Who cast no shade to the moon as they flee;
Ride
still!
And they ride for ever by glimmer and foam,
With the moon and the blackness guiding them home;
|
20 |
Ride
still!
A
man and a maiden lie under the night,
Ride
slow!
And the moon on their faces is chillèd
and white;
Ride
slow!
|
25 |
For
love hath stolen from turret and tower,
And woe is the dreaming and woe is the hour!
Ride
slow!
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