Upon the road I met a man
Bestride an ebon horse
His vestments fine, eyes black as sloes
Eloquent his discourse
"I wend to Ogden's ale-house Sir,
That serves a nut-brown beer!
Ride with me and together shall
We make the road less drear."

I took him for a nobleman
Or so his bearing seemed
"Yea, high-born am I," he confirmed
"Alrightly thou has deemed."
"Theologian or a layman?"
Learned as savant was he.
"The corporeal and the spirit both
Are of concern to me."

Still might he harp a round-a-lay
Deft as a troubadour
And dissertate on alchemy
Or some abscondite lore
Chart could he like a Chaldean
The course of moon and star
And full of martial prowess was
As if a Knight Templar

When to Tristram nigh we drew
"Who be you?" I dared pose
He chortled then and his reply
At once my marrow froze:
"The Devil Sir am I, thought you
Some horned grosteque was he?"
I turned to look, and looked again
But no one then could see...

I Sit Beside the Fire...

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.