When slim Sophia mounts her horse And paces down the avenue, It seems an inward melody She paces to. Each narrow hoof is lifted high Beneath the dark enclustering pines, A silver ray within his bit And bridle shines. His eye burns deep, his tail is arched, And streams upon the shadowy air, The daylight sleeks his jetty flanks, His mistress' hair. Her habit flows in darkness down, Upon the stirrup rests her foot, Her brow is lifted, as if earth She heeded not. 'Tis silent in the avenue, The sombre pines are mute of song, The blue is dark, there moves no breeze The boughs among. When slim Sophia mounts her horse And paces down the avenue, It seems an inward melody She paces to. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FESTE'S SONG (1), FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TIPPERARY: 1. BY OUR OWN JAMES OPPENHEIM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DESTINY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WHEN I WAS YOUNG by IRMA TIBBETTS ANDREWS A REMEMBRANCE OF SOME ENGLISH POETS by RICHARD BARNFIELD |