and galloped away to the west. |
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight |
sweet black waves in the moonlight!) |
(O |
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight |
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; |
But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand |
He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand |
though hell should bar the way.” |
I’ll come to thee by moonlight |
Watch for me by moonlight |
Then look for me by moonlight |
and harry me through the day |
if they press me sharply |
Yet |
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; |
I’m after a prize to-night |
my bonny sweetheart |
“One kiss |
and he heard the robber say— |
Dumb as a dog he listened |
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter. |
But he loved the landlord’s daughter |
his hair like mouldy hay |
His eyes were hollows of madness |
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked. |
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked |
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair. |
the landlord’s daughter |
Bess |
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter |
and who should be waiting there |
He whistled a tune to the window |
but all was locked and barred. |
He tapped with his whip on the shutters |
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard. |
under the jewelled sky. |
His rapier hilt a-twinkle |
His pistol butts a-twinkle |
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle |
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh. |
and breeches of brown doe-skin. |
A coat of the claret velvet |
a bunch of lace at his chin |
He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead |
up to the old inn-door. |
The highwayman came riding |
Riding—riding— |
And the highwayman came riding— |
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor |
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. |
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. |