There came a horse at midnight's hour,
A shadow crowned with mane,
That fled beneath the starless sky
As though it fled from pain.

I watched him pass the midnight veil,
A phantom pale and fleet.
What could have driven him so far,
What followed at his feet?

Perhaps he fled the moonless grave,
Perhaps the dead had stirred,

Or worse, perhaps he fled himself,
From something left unheard.

Then darkness closed upon his path,
The hoofbeats ceased at last,
And where the horse had thundered through,
There lay the silence vast.

Yet still, when night descends upon
The fields beyond my door,

I hear a hoof upon the earth,

And then I hear no more.