As he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat
I clattered into the darkness, draped on my back was his cloak
He was a just and fair master, he loved me like one of his men
No man was more dashing than he
No lover was more loyal than he
Dearly he had loved pretty Bess, though at his feet swooned a gaggle of comely women.
Poor Bess could not overcome her grief, swung from a rope did she
I roam rudderless and forlorn, though amongst my brethren I be
‘Tis peaceful and quiet here in the meadows
But there ne’er will be a man like the highwayman
A daring and swashbuckling highwayman
Thinking of his daredevil ways, my poor heart often overflows.
Anyone who has read The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes, would know that my first line is borrowed from the poem. I know nothing about horses. The little I know, is from this poem, which is my favourite and from the novels of Dick Francis, I read as a young girl. I have written about it here.
Written for Sadje’s wdys.