Like a breath that comes and goes O'er the waveless waste Of sleeping Ocean, So sweeps across the plain The herd of wild horses. Like banners in the wind Their flying tails, Their streaming manes: And like spume of the sea Fang'd by breakers, The white froth tossed from their blood-red nostrils. Out from the midst of them Dasheth a white mare, White as a swan in the pride of her beauty: And, like the whirlwind, Following after, A snorting stallion, Swart as an Indian Diver of coral! Wild the gyrations, The rush and the whirl; Loud the hot panting Of the snow-white mare, As swift upon her The stallion gaineth: Fierce the proud snorting Of him, victorious: And loud, swelling loud on the wind from the mountains, The hoarse savage tumult of neighing and stamping Where, wheeling, the herd of wild horses awaiteth -- Ears thrown back, tails thrashing their flanks or swept under -- The challenging scream of the conqueror-stallion. |