69. The Green Hunters

THE Green Hunters went ridin’;

They swept down the night

Through hollows of shadow

An’ pools of moonlight;

Their steeds’ shoes of soft silver,

They blew ne’er a horn,

But trampled a highway

Among the ripe corn.

I looked from the half-door,

They never saw me,

For each one kept wavin’

A slip of a tree;

’Twas black as the yewan,

An’ whiter than may.

An’ red as the sally

That goes the wind’s way.

The Green Hunter came ridin’

Back to Gore Wood;

Though they heard my lips movin’,

I stood where I stood.

Oh, what do they call him

The one rode behind?

For my heart’s in his holdin’,

My mind in his mind.