| |
| I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; | |
| I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; | |
| “Good speed!” cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; | |
| “Speed!” echoed the wall to us galloping through: | |
| Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, | 5 |
| And into the midnight we galloped abreast. | |
| |
| Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace | |
| Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; | |
| I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, | |
| Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, | 10 |
| Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, | |
| Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. | |
| |
| ’T was moonset at starting; but while we drew near | |
| Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; | |
| At Boom a great yellow star came out to see; | 15 |
| At Düffeld ’t was morning as plain as could be; | |
| And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime, | |
| So Joris broke silence with, “Yet there is time!” | |
| |
| At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, | |
| And against him the cattle stood black every one, | 20 |
| To stare through the mist at us galloping past, | |
| And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, | |
| With resolute shoulders, each butting away | |
| The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray. | |
| |
| And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back | 25 |
| For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; | |
| And one eye’s black intelligence,—ever that glance | |
| O’er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! | |
| And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon | |
| His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. | 30 |
| |
| By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, “Stay spur! | |
| Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault ’s not in her, | |
| We ’ll remember at Aix”—for one heard the quick wheeze | |
| Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees, | |
| And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, | 35 |
| As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. | |
| |
| So we were left galloping, Joris and I, | |
| Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; | |
| The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, | |
| ’Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; | 40 |
| Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, | |
| And “Gallop,” gasped Joris, “for Aix is in sight!” | |
| |
| “How they ’ll greet us!”—and all in a moment his roan | |
| Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; | |
| And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight | 45 |
| Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, | |
| With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, | |
| And with circles of red for his eye-sockets’ rim. | |
| |
| Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall, | |
| Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, | 50 |
| Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, | |
| Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; | |
| Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, | |
| Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. | |
| |
| And all I remember is, friends flocking round | 55 |
| As I sate with his head ’twixt my knees on the ground, | |
| And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, | |
| As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, | |
| Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) | |
| Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. | 60 |
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