Poems (Cromwell)/The Riders
THE RIDERS
You look askance at me.
Do you take my horse
For Pegasus? Of course
He steps like Poetry,
But he's a quiet beast.
I think I hear you say
You don't like in the least
His fleet-footed way.
Do you take my horse
For Pegasus? Of course
He steps like Poetry,
But he's a quiet beast.
I think I hear you say
You don't like in the least
His fleet-footed way.
But your light flitting mare
Skims the meadows too.
Her nimble feet pursue
The stony dales, dare
The sloping pastures, leap
The brooks. You do the things
I do in dreams, asleep—
(Pegasus has wings)!
Skims the meadows too.
Her nimble feet pursue
The stony dales, dare
The sloping pastures, leap
The brooks. You do the things
I do in dreams, asleep—
(Pegasus has wings)!
You canter wide-awake.
Your mare is real; my steed
Imaginary. Need
You then suspect me? Take
The cloud-rack by my side!
Partners, Life and Art.
Adventurers, we ride
To rhythms in heaven's heart.
Your mare is real; my steed
Imaginary. Need
You then suspect me? Take
The cloud-rack by my side!
Partners, Life and Art.
Adventurers, we ride
To rhythms in heaven's heart.