Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HEATH, by THOMAS BOYD



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THE HEATH, by            
First Line: Through the purple dusk on this pathless heath
Last Line: Frightens the wanderer aloof.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


THROUGH the purple dusk on this pathless heath
Wanders a horse with its rider, Death.
The steed like its master is old and grim,
And the flame in his eye is burning dim.

The crown of the rider is red with gold,
For he is lord of the lea and the wold.
A-tween his ribs, against the sky
Glimmer the stars as he rideth by.

A hungry scythe o'er his shoulder bare
Glints afar through the darkening air,
And the sudden clank of his horse's hoof
Frightens the Wanderer aloof.





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