HIGHWAYMAN'S HOLLOW

"Where the cliff hangs hollow, where the gloom falls chill,
You hear a something, follow, follow, follow down the hill;
Where the horses sweat and lather and the dusk begins to gather
It is there that i will meet you and will greet you,
You, Sir Traveller."

"Where the leaves lie rotting and the night falls blind,
You hear a someone trotting, trotting, totting down the wind,
And you listen all a-shiver to my ghostly 'Stand, deliver,'
Yes, although my bones have whitened, you are frightened
Yet, Sir Traveller."

"'Twas traveller who slew me where the dark firs frown,
'Twas his small sword through me and the blood dripped down.
Where the horeses sweat and lather and the dusk begins to gather,
It is there i ride behind you to remind you,
You, Sir Traveller."
By: Gilbert V. Yonge