Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems by the late Thomas Haynes Bayly; Edited by his Widow. With A Memoir of the Author. In Two Volumes |
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 | Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems |  |
119
HE RODE BY AT MORN.
I
He rode by at morn on his courser so black,And he said that at noon we should see him ride back;
Like a bridegroom, who speeds to his bride, he was drest,
A plume in his cap, and arose at his breast.
Look forth from the casement—look over the plam,
We shall see him ride by on his courser again.
II
I hear the steed coming, his form I discern,No—'tis not the rider who pass'd me at morn!
'Tis his rival, whose right arm encircles the waist
Of a lady, whose light form before him is placed!
So swiftly they pass, that pursuit will be vain—
Oh, when will the poor lover pass us again?
III
Another steed comes, but so tardy his pace,He seems like a jaded one last in a race!
His rider looks down with vexation and gloom,
His rosebud is faded, and broken his plume:
He gaily rode by us at morn—but 'tis plain,
Displeased with his journey, he rides back again.
| Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems | |