Thrice, and yet, rings haunting bell,

Unhappiness’s constant bode:

“There sorrow, gloom, and tears might dwell.”

But on, forever, still he rode.

Hope lay mute by terror’s brand-

That harsh and dark, unyielding code-

Muffled dream of distant land.

But on, forever, still he rode.

Past met promise, fief was drawn;

Heartbeat hastened, time’s tick slowed.

Through veil lie solely tyrant dawn.

So on, a little, still he rode.

A single step, yet miles of fright,

Courage tempted to corrode-

Doubt consumed by brilliant light!

So on, a little, still he rode.

The new place offered pleasant sting.

Love’s tender, violent river flowed;

It’s lusty whispers, perfect ring.

And there, forever, he abode.