HE RODE -- it was his joy to ride, For he was great and rash of soul! And there was none to let or guide For him who held a star his goal. He rode -- he rode to right a wrong! It was enough -- he could not stay! Whoever fell, his path along, The Rider still must keep his way. He rode -- he rode free and aloof! A steed he rode of heavenly race: The flint-fire flashing from the hoof -- It flashed upon my fallen face! What then? He hath attained his star, He hath achieved his heart-sworn trust: He mounts to where Immortals are; But I am dust -- blown on with dust! He rode. His heart was rash and strong. Let fall the unjust and the just! He rode -- he rode to right a wrong; He spurned the earth -- he spurned this dust! I have no voice, save as the wind Will cry for me, cry far and wide! -- Will say, "There was no ruth to bind -- It was the Rider's joy to ride!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWENTY GOLDEN YEARS AGO by JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN A MOTHER'S PICTURE by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN THE BOOK OF LOS by WILLIAM BLAKE TAKE IT FROM FATHER by BERTON BRALEY THE BATTLE OF CHARLESTOWN by HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL SPRING FANTASIES: 6. AS FLUTES OF ARCADY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON AN ODE ON THE DESTRUCTION OF THE BASTILE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |