The Highwayman
The Highwayman is a poem by Alfred
Noyes; set to music by
Loreena McKennitt.The term "
highwayman" is mainly applied to robbers who travelled on a horse, as opposed to those who robbed on foot (foot-pads)The Highwayman:The wind was a torrent of darkness among the
gusty trees,The moon was a ghostly
galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,The road was a ribbon of
moonlight, over the purple
moor,And
the highwayman came riding- Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door. IIHe'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,A coat of the
claret velvet, and
breeches of brown doe-skin;They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!And he rode with a jewelled twinkle, His pistol butts a-twinkle,His
rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky. IIIOver the
cobbles he
clattered and
clashed in the dark inn-yard,And he tapped with his whip on the
shutters, but all was locked and barred;He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting thereBut
the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair. IVAnd dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creakedWhere Tim the
ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;His eyes were
hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say- V"One kiss, my
bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight,I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way." VIHe rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,But she loosened her hair i' the
casement! His face burnt like a brandAs the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.
Part Two IHe did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;And out o' the
tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,When the road was a
gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,A red-coat troop came marching- Marching-marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door. IIThey said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;Two of them knelt at her casement, with
muskets at their side!There was death at every window; And hell at one dark window;For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride. IIIThey had tied her up to attention, with many a
sniggering jest;They bound a
musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say-Look for me by moonlight; Watch for me by moonlight;I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way! IVShe twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by likeyears,Till, now, on
the stroke of midnight, Cold, on the stroke of midnight,The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers! VThe tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;For the road lay bare in the moonlight; Blank and bare in the moonlight;And the blood of her veins in the moonlight
throbbed to her love's refrain. VI Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofsringing clear;Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they didnot hear?Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,The highwayman came riding, Riding, riding!The red-coats looked to their
priming! She stood up strait and still! VIITlot-tlot, in
the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,Then her finger moved in the moonlight, Her musket shattered the moonlight,Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death. VIIIHe turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stoodBowed, with her head o'er
the musket, drenched with her own red blood!Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hearHow Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter,Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. IXBack, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,With the white road smoking behind him and his
rapier brandished high!Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat. * * * * * * XAnd still of a
winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,A highwayman comes riding- Riding-riding-A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door. XIOver the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting thereBut the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter,Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.