A broken bridle trailing, <br />A saddle scratched and scarred – <br />And Brown Bee at the railing <br />That rings the station yard; <br />No stockman sits astride her, <br />But, by those flanks a-foam, <br />Wild Terror was the rider <br />That lashed the good mare home! <br /> <br />She snorts across the moonlight <br />Through nostrils red and wide <br />The challenge of the unbacked colt <br />To those who dare not ride; <br />She snorts across the moonlight <br />Through nostrils wide and red <br />The terror of a dumb beast <br />That has looked upon the dead. . . <br /> <br />His saddle and his bridle <br />We’ve softly laid aside, <br />We’ll leave the rough gear idle <br />Till he comes back to ride – <br />But when the daylight gathers <br />And when the dawning pales, <br />The brown mare stands and whinnies <br />With her lean head on the rails.<br /><br />William Henry Ogilvie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/riderless/
