Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/36

 HEN slim Sophia mounts her horse
 * And paces down the avenue,

It seems an inward melody
 * She paces to.

Each narrow hoof is lifted high
 * Beneath the dark enclustering pines,

A silver ray within his bit
 * And bridle shines.

His eye burns deep, his tail is arched,
 * And streams upon the shadowy air,

The daylight sleeks his jetty flanks,
 * His mistress' hair.

Her habit flows in darkness down,
 * Upon the stirrup rests her foot,

Her brow is lifted, as if earth
 * She heeded not.

'Tis silent in the avenue,
 * The sombre pines are mute of song,

The blue is dark, there moves no breeze
 * The boughs among.