THE trees in the autumn wind rustle, The night is humid and cold; I ride all alone in the forest, And round me my grey cloak I fold. And as I am riding, before me My thoughts unrestrainedly roam; They lightly and airily bear me To my own dear mistress's home. The dogs are barking, the servants With glittering torches appear; I climb up the winding staircase, My spurs ring loudly and clear. In her bright-lighted tapestry chamber, So full of magical charms, My own sweet darling awaits me, I hasten into her arms. The wind in the leaves is sighing, The oak thus whispers to me: "What means, thou foolish young horseman, "Thy foolish reverie?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHILD IS WEEPING by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS GERARDA by ELOISE ALBERTA VERONICA BIBB IN REFERENCE TO HER CHILDREN, 23 JUNE, 1659 by ANNE BRADSTREET THE TWO CHILDREN by EMILY JANE BRONTE AN ODE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) EPISTLE TO MR. M'ADAM; IN ANSWER TO AN OBLIGING LETTER ... by ROBERT BURNS SEA RHAPSODY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |