I HEARD a clash, and a cry, And a horseman fleeing the wood. The moon hid in a cloud. Deep in shadow I stood. 'Ugly work!' thought I, Holding my breath. 'Men must be cruel and proud, 'Jousting for death'. With gusty glimmering shone The moon; and the wind blew colder. A man went over the hill, Bent to his horse's shoulder. 'Time for me to be gone'... Darkly I fled. Owls in the wood were shrill, And the moon sank red. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TREES by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS CONSCIENCE AND REMORSE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR NATURE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW STANZAS TO M.P. by BERNARD BARTON ASCENSION OF A CITY FOG by FRANCES COFFIN BOAZ SONG TO AELLA LORD OF THE CASTLE OF BRISTOL IN DAYS OF YORE by THOMAS CHATTERTON |