horses

Took up the blackbird's strain,

And still beside the horses

Along the dewy lane

Ay, the horses trample,

The harness jingles now;

Whereon a woman-statue rose with wings

From four wing’d horses dark against the stars.

And some inscription ran along the front,

And shouts, and clarions shrilling unto blood,

The long-lanced battle let their horses run.

She trampled some beneath her horses’ heels,

unarisen,

Swift horses of fear or of love, take flight and depart and not die.

They are swifter than dreams, they are stronger than death; there is

Sometimes there was a waggon

Whose horses made a strange loud hollow sound

With their hoofs

They are whipping and cursing the horses. Lord!

What brutes men are when they think they're scored.