Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Highwayman

Until at last, serene and proud, In all the splendour of her light, She walks the terraces of cloud, Supreme as Empress of the Night. by olive~moving house, away for now.

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--
The highwayman came riding up to the old inn door.

~Alfred Noyes, "The Highwayman"


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