From the Hills of Dream | ||
131
Evoë!
Oceanward, the sea-horses sweep magnificentlyOceanward, the sea-horses sweep magnificently, champing and whirling white foam about their green flanks, and tossing on high their manes of sunlit rainbow-gold, dazzling white and multitudinous far as sight can reach.
O champing horses of my soul, toss, toss on high your sunlit manes, your manes of rainbow-gold, dazzling white and multitudinous: for I too rejoice, rejoice!
From the Hills of Dream | ||