O God, in the dream the terrible horse began <br />To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows, <br />Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane, <br />And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose. <br /> <br />Coward complete, I lay and wept on the ground <br />When some strong creature appeared, and leapt for the rein. <br />Another woman, as I lay half in a swound <br />Leapt in the air, and clutched at the leather and chain. <br /> <br />Give him, she said, something of yours as a charm. <br />Throw him, she said, some poor thing you alone claim. <br />No, no, I cried, he hates me; he is out for harm, <br />And whether I yield or not, it is all the same. <br /> <br />But, like a lion in a legend, when I flung the glove <br />Pulled from my sweating, my cold right hand; <br />The terrible beast, that no one may understand, <br />Came to my side, and put down his head in love.<br /><br />Louise Bogan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dream-5/
