Stephen Crane

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Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword.
“To save my lady!”
Fast rode the knight,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver nights,
And the gold of the knight’s good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
          
                               *   *   *
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.