As from the Dorset shore I travelled home, I saw the charger of the Wiltshire wold; A far-seen figure, stately to behold, Whose groom the shepherd is, the hoe his comb; His wizard-spell even sober daylight owned; That night I dreamed him into living will; He neighed - and, straight, the chalk poured down the hill; He shook himself, and all beneath was stoned; Hengist and Horsa shouted o'er my sleep, Like fierce Achilles; while that storm-blanched horse Sprang to the van of all the Saxon force, And pushed the Britons to the Western deep; Then, dream-wise, as it were a thing of course, He floated upwards, and regained the steep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE COCK AND THE FOX, OR THE TALE OF THE NUN'S PRIEST by GEOFFREY CHAUCER ROUNDEL by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SHIRK OR WORK? by GRACE BORDELON AGATE THE BATTLE OF THE PIGMIES AND THE CRANES by JAMES BEATTIE |