THERE hangs a sabre, and there a rein, With a rusty buckle and green curb chain; A pair of spurs on the old gray wall, And a mouldy saddle -- well, that is all. Come out to the stable -- it is not far; The moss grown door is hanging ajar. Look within! There's an empty stall, Where once stood a charger, and that is all. The good black horse came riderless home, Flecked with blood drops as well as foam; See yonder hillcock where dead leaves fall; The good black horse pined to death -- that's all. All? O, God, it is all I can speak. Question me not -- I am old and weak; His sabre and his saddle hang on the wall, And his horse pined to death -- I have told you all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROUNDEL by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS CYNTHIA ON HORSEBACK by PHILIP AYRES TO SARAH TAYLOR by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE COMPLAINT OF POETIE, FOR THE DEATH OF LIBERALITE by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE BIRD FANCIER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE COMPLEMENT by THOMAS CAREW |