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HOW she held up the horses' heads, / Firm-lipped, with steady rein, / Down that grim steep the coastguard treads, / Till all was safe again!
With form erect and keen contour / She passed against the sea, / And, dipping into the chine's obscure, / Was seen no more by me.
To others she appeared anew / At times of dusky light, / But always, so they told, withdrew / From close and curious sight.
Some said her silent wheels would roll / Rutless on softest loam, / And even that her steeds' footfall / Sank not upon the foam.
Where drives she now? It may be where / No mortal horses are, / But in a chariot of the air / Towards some radiant star.