Explore "Master" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Master went a-hunting, / When the leaves were falling; / We saw him on the bridle path, / We heard him gaily calling. / ‘Oh master, master, come you back, / For I have dreamed a dream so black! ' / A glint of steel from bit and heel, / The chestnut cantered faster; / A red flash seen amid the green, / And so good-bye to master.
Master came from hunting, / Two silent comrades bore him; / His eyes were dim, his face was white, / The mare was led before him. / ‘Oh, master, master, is it thus / That you have come again to us? ' / I held my lady's ice-cold hand, / They bore the hurdle past her; / Why should they go so soft and slow? / It matters not to master.