Alfred Noyes Poems
|82.||The Trumpet Call||4/6/2010|
|85.||The War Widow||4/6/2010|
|86.||The Young Friar||4/6/2010|
|87.||To A Successful Man||4/6/2010|
|88.||To The R.A.F||1/3/2003|
|89.||Touchstone On A Bus||4/6/2010|
|93.||What Grandfather Said||4/6/2010|
Comments about Alfred Noyes
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—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake;
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.
Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.