At every door where lovers dwell, A waiting horseman stands. One foot set in the stirrup-shell, The bridle in his hands. No passerby can see him there, Nor do the lovers know. Their blood would creep in cheeks so fair, Like brooks beneath the snow. Often the horseman's weary head Droops on his horse's mane. Now starts he up, the swift dream fled -- And tighter draws the rein. He listens long with stern set brow, While darker grows his face. He now is mounted and is now Gone, galloped from the place. And now the door burst open wide, The two sit there alone. They may sit ever side by side, But love, ah love, has flown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON SCUM O' THE EARTH' by ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER SONNET: 104 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE DEATH AT DAYBREAK by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH ONCE WITH DEATH NEAR by REBA MAXWELL AVERY THE GREAT BLACK CROW by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY CHILDREN OF LIGHT by BERNARD BARTON SPRING IN THE ALPS by MATHILDE BLIND THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 100. AGE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |