A horseman on a hilltop green <br /> Drew rein, and wound his horn; <br />So bright he looked he might have been <br /> The Herald of the Morn. <br />His steed was of the sovran strain <br /> In Fancy’s meadows bred— <br />And pride was in his tossing mane, <br /> And triumph in his tread. <br /> <br />The rider’s eyes like jewels glowed— <br /> The World was in his hand— <br />As down the woodland way he rode <br /> When Spring was in the land. <br /> <br />From golden hour to golden hour <br /> For him the woodland sang. <br />And from the heart of every flower <br /> A singing fairy sprang. <br /> <br />He rode along with rein so free, <br /> And, as he rode, the Blue <br />Mysterious Bird of Fantasy <br /> Ever before him flew. <br /> <br />He rode by cot and castle dim <br /> Through all the greenland gay; <br />Bright eyes through casements glanced at him: <br /> He laughed—and rode away. <br /> <br />The world with sunshine was aflood, <br /> And glad were maid and man, <br />And through his throbbing veins the blood <br /> In keen, sweet shudders ran. <br /> <br /> <br />His steed tossed head with fiery scorn, <br /> And stamped, and snuffed the air— <br />As though he heard a sudden horn <br /> Of far-off battle blare. <br />Erect the rider sat awhile <br /> With flashing eyes, and then <br />Turned slowly, sighing, with a smile, <br /> “0 weary world of men!” <br /> <br />For aye the Bird of Fantasy <br /> Sang magic songs to him, <br />And deeper and deeper still rode he <br /> Into the Forest Dim. <br /> <br /> <br />That rider with his face aglow <br /> With joy of life I see <br />In dreams. Ah, years and years ago <br /> He parted ways with me! <br />Yet, sometimes, when the days are drear <br /> And all the world forlorn, <br />From out the dim wood’s heart I hear <br /> The echo of his horn.<br /><br />Victor James Daley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-vision-of-youth/
