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