The Recluse (Cook)/The Runner

by Arthur Henry Goodenough

For works with similar titles, see Runner.

The Runner

By Arthur H. Goodenough

White feet!—white feet!
Running in the dew
Where the night is deepest,
While the stars are few,
Do you bear a mortal?
Do you bear a wraith?
But the Night is speechless,
Nought the silence saith.

White feet—light feet—
Speeding in the murk,
Where the gloam is grimmest,
This is witch’s work;
Is a tryst your mission?
Do you flee in fear?
Ask I, but no answer
Falls upon my ear.

White feet—swift feet—
Running in the grass,
I can see the vision,
I can hear you pass;
But to guess your meaning
Is beyond my power;
In the shadow racing
At this lonely hour.

White feet—strange feet—
What is in your wake?
Must your course you finish
’Ere the dawn shall break?
Ugh! I feel a shiver!
Holy Heaven save!
Creature of the darkness
Have you crossed my grave?