MASTER

Master went a-hunting,

When the leaves were falling;

We saw him on the bridle path,

We heard him gaily calling.

‘ Oh master, master, come you back,

For I have dreamed a dream so black!’

A glint of steel from bit and heel,

The chestnut cantered faster;

A red flash seen amid the green,

And so good-bye to master.

Master came from hunting,

Two silent comrades bore him;

His eyes were dim, his face was white,

The mare was led before him.

‘ Oh, master, master, is it thus

That you have come again to us?’

I held my lady's ice-cold hand,

They bore the hurdle past her;

Why should they go so soft and slow?

It matters not to master.