They rode right out of the morning sun-- <br />A glimmering, glittering cavalcade <br />Of knights and ladies and every one <br />In princely sheen arrayed; <br />And the king of them all, O he rode ahead, <br />With a helmet of gold, and a plume of red <br />That spurted about in the breeze and bled <br />In the bloom of the everglade. <br /> <br />And they rode high over the dewy lawn, <br />With brave, glad banners of every hue <br />That rolled in ripples, as they rode on <br />In splendor, two and two; <br />And the tinkling links of the golden reins <br />Of the steeds they rode rang such refrains <br />As the castanets in a dream of Spain's <br />Intensest gold and blue. <br /> <br />And they rode and rode; and the steeds they neighed <br />And pranced, and the sun on their glossy hides <br />Flickered and lightened and glanced and played <br />Like the moon on rippling tides; <br /> <br />And their manes were silken, and thick and strong, <br />And their tails were flossy, and fetlock-long, <br />And jostled in time to the teeming throng, <br />And their knightly song besides. <br /> <br />Clank of scabbard and jingle of spur, <br />And the fluttering sash of the queen went wild <br />In the wind, and the proud king glanced at her <br />As one at a wilful child--, <br />And as knight and lady away they flew, <br />And the banners flapped, and the falcon too, <br />And the lances flashed and the bugle blew, <br />He kissed his hand and smiled. <br /> <br />And then, like a slanting sunlit shower, <br />The pageant glittered across the plain, <br />And the turf spun back, and the wildweed flower <br />Was only a crimson stain. <br />And a dreamer's eyes they are downward cast, <br />As he blends these words with the wailing blast: <br />'It is the King of the Year rides past!' <br />And Autumn is here again.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-king-20/
