Swing to stirrup and swift away

Down the road to lovers' land:

Ride—the moon is dusky gold,

Ride—our hearts are young and warm,

Ride—the hour is growing old,

And the next may break the charm.

VI

Swift, ere we that thought the song

Full—for others—of the truth,

We that smiled, contented, strong,

Dowered with endless wealth of youth,

Find that like a summer cloud

Youth indeed has crept away,

Find the robe a clinging shroud

And the hair be-sprent with grey.

[Pg 15]

VII

Ride—we'll leave it all behind,

All the turmoil and the tears,

All the mad vindictive blind

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