Riders three and they leaped away Down the forest's vaulted road; And not the sorrel and not the gray Nor the black needed whip or goad. The three drew rein at a wayside spring, In a glen called Hermit's Place -- And they talked of poet and priest and king, And the lords of the outer space. "God is maker of earth and star, And ruler of quick and dead -- One with Polaris and Zanzibar," The first of the riders said. The second called Him "Fountain of Good," And "Healer of Woe and Pain!" A third voice rang through the echoing wood, And this was its bold refrain: "God is myself at my uttermost! I speak it never in jest -- Not in derision and not in boast; But . . . God is myself at my best!" The riders mounted and leaped away Down the forest's vaulted road; And not the sorrel and not the gray, Nor the black needed whip or goad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO-MORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL HESTER PRYNNE? by KAREN SWENSON IN THE HOLY NATIVITY [OF OUR LORD GOD]; AS SUNG BY SHEPHERDS by RICHARD CRASHAW GO DOWN DEATH; A FUNERAL SERMON by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SINCERE FLATTERY OF R.B. by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LAST MAN: RAIN by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |