By Alfred Noyes
|
---------------------------------
|
|
Part One
|
I
|
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
|
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
|
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
|
And the highwayman came riding-
|
Riding-riding-
|
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
|
|
II
|
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
|
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
|
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
|
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
|
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
|
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
|
|
III
|
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
|
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
|
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
|
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
|
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
|
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
|
|
IV
|
And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
|
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
|
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
|
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
|
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
|
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-
|
|
V
|
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
|
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
|
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
|
Then look for me by moonlight,
|
Watch for me by moonlight,
|
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
|
|
VI
|
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
|
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
|
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
|
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
|
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
|
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.
|
|
Part Two
|
I
|
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
|
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
|
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
|
A red-coat troop came marching-
|
Marching-marching-
|
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
|
|
II
|
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
|
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
|
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
|
There was death at every window;
|
And hell at one dark window;
|
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.
|
|
III
|
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
|
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
|
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
|
She heard the dead man say-
|
Look for me by moonlight;
|
Watch for me by moonlight;
|
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
|
|
IV
|
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
|
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
|
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like
|
years,
|
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
|
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
|
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
|
|
V
|
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
|
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
|
| She would not risk their hearin |
