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1880–1929

THE BRIGHT RIDER

John Freeman

All the night through I drank Sleep like water or cool cider; Life flowed over and I sank Down below the night of clouds....

Then on a pale horse was rider Through long brushing woods Where the owl in silence broods, Quavers, and is quiet again;

Where the grass dark and rank Breathes on the still air its rain. Rain and dark and green and sound Closing slowly round

Swept me as I rode, And rode on until I came Where a white cold river flowed Under woods thin and bare

In the moon's long candle flame. Through the woods the wind crawled Leviathan, and here and there Branches creaked and old winds howled

Sick for home. All the night I saw the river, As a girl that sees beside her Love, between fear and fear

Riding, and is dumb. The white horse turned to cross the river, But the waters like a wall Rose and hung dark over all;

And as they fell the river wider Wider grew, and sky was bare Save of the sick candle's stare. Death the divider

Glittered cold and dark and deep Under banks of fear. But that rider Trembling, bright, rode on,

Trembling and bright rode on Through green lanes of sleep.

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THE BRIGHT RIDER · John Freeman · Poetry Cove