Explore "Trot, My Good Steed, Trot!" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WHERE my true love abideth / I make my way to-night; / Lo! waiting, she / Espieth me, / And calleth in delight: / "I see his steed anear / Come trotting with my dear, -- / Oh, idle not, good steed, but trot, / Trot thou my lover here!"
Aloose I cast the bridle, / And ply the whip and spur; / And gayly I / Speed this reply, / While faring on to her: / "Oh, true love, fear thou not! / I seek our trysting spot; / And double feed be yours, my steed, / If you more swiftly trot."