(Pale Shebah with her braided hair,)
And many a barbarous form is seen
To chide the man that lingers there.

By midnight moons, o'er misting dews,
In habit of the chase arrayed,
The hunter still the deer pursues,
The hunter and the deer--a shade!

And long shall timorous Fancy see
The painted chief and pointed spear,
The Reason's self shall bow the knee
To shadows and delusions here.




"RANK ON RANK OF GHOSTLY SOLDIERS"


THE SONG OF SOLDIERS: WALTER DE LA MARE

As I sat musing by the frozen dyke,
There was one man marching with a bright steel pike,
Marching in the daylight, like a ghost came he,
And behind me was the moaning and the murmur of the sea.

As I sat musing, 'twas not one but ten--
Rank on rank of ghostly soldiers marching o'er the fen,
Marching in the misty air they showed in dreams to me,