I would not ride with the hot busy sun
Nor glide either with the cold and dizzy moon.
For it's with the curling cloud edges of a storm I would travel
On and on, the horses of my chariot cracking their rainy sinews
And bellowing their avalanches down the valley sides.
The Charioteer
I would not ride with the hot busy sun
Nor glide either with the cold and dizzy moon.
For it's with the curling cloud edges of a storm I would travel
On and on, the horses of my chariot cracking their rainy sinews
And bellowing their avalanches down the valley sides.