I wish I might become like one of these

Who in the night on horses wild astride

With torches flaming out like loosened hair

On to the chase through the great swift wind ride.

I wish to stand as on a boat and dare

The sweeping storm mighty like flag unrolled

In darkness but with helmet made of gold

That shimmers restlessly. And in a row

Behind me in the dark ten men that glow

With helmets that are restless too like mine

Now old and dull now clear as glass they shine.

One stands by me and blows a blast apace

On his great flashing trumpet and the sound

Shrieks through the vast black solitude around

Through which as through a wild mad dream we race.

The houses fall behind us on their knees

Before us bend the streets and them we gain

The great squares yieled to us and them we seize—

And on our steeds rush like the roar of rain.