![]() | New poems by Madison Cawein | ![]() |
THE RAID
Rain and black night. Beneath the covered bridgeThe rushing Fork that roars among its rocks.
Nothing is out.—Nothing?—What's that which blocks
The long grey road upon the rain-swept ridge?
A horseman! No! A mask! As hewn from jet
With ready gun he waits and sentinels
The open way. Far off he hears wild bells;
And now a signal shrills through wind and wet.
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The tunnel of the bridge throbs with mad hoofs;
Now its black throat pours out a midnight cloud—
Riders! behind whom steadily a gleam
Grows to a glare that silhouettes dark roofs,
Whence armed Pursuit gathers and gallops loud.
![]() | New poems by Madison Cawein | ![]() |