ON a white horse she goes All glad and green and gay, Half timid and half bold, As a child at play Who knows she's watched and shows Childhood's wandering sway. She is like a bright imp riding A butterfly on the wind, Wanton and uncertain, Being happy and blind; Yet in her delight, tears hiding, Fears crouched in her mind. And all is so confused As April sun with cloud That sables all the sky, The white is a black shroud. She droops, as shaken and bruised, No more gay or proud; The white horse wears a pall, The fields are gray with rime. So startling, so sullen, Night blots the day's prime. On bright thoughts dark wings fall Making a horror of Time. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BREST LEFT BEHIND by JOHN CHIPMAN FARRAR THE MAGI by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE NEW JERUSALEM by AUGUSTINE THE LAND OF THE GIANTS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET YESTERDAY by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN A DAY REMORSEFUL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A RAILROAD YARD AT NIGHT by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |