And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor, The highwayman comes riding
-"The Highwayman" Alfred Noyes
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
You touched my hand and you smiled All the way back you held out your hand If I hope and If I pray Ooh well it might work out someday