Two hands are creeping up the wall,
Two hands that are slim and white and small?
And who can hear the lattice open, the lattice open gently?
Now over the lip of the window sill,
A rustle of silks, the lattice closes,
No one has heard, the night is still,
Save unblossomed buds of the startled roses.
Yet were attentive ears to hearken: enemy ears to listen
Far off, far off, where the white road bends,
And the upturned cup of the blue sky ends,
They might have heard a horse's hoofs
Go clickity, clickity, clickity hack, clickity hack, clickity ...
clickity ... clickity ... hack
Wisely wondered why late at night
So speedy a horseman rode its back....
Then the echo dimmed at the edge of a wood,
And the sound and the horse were gone for good.
The creature who watches through the bars
Heard every footfall under the stars.

Beside the doorway of his cell
Imprisoned in that iron hell,
He taunted the guards of the King--the King's own guards they were--
With scarlet breeches and purple coats,
Shining buckles upon their boots.
He taunted them with sneering jests.
He sneered at the medals on their breasts;
Laughed in the haughty captain's face,
Cut short the chaplain's plea for grace,
And hummed the popular air of the day
When they read the sentence, and bade him pray.

"I promised her at our final tryst,
When our aching bodies clung and kissed,
That come what may, no matter when
I should see her to tell her I love her again."

And he laughed through the bars
In a redcoat's face,

Then he looked through the window
Up at the stars,
And saw that the dawn was taking place.
I'll be returning ere the dusk is down,
I'll be returning....
Wait for me!
I'll be returning though life claims
Allegiance under lying rames.

This was the song he sang for her--for her this song he sang.

So there by the pool where the rose leaves drift.
She waited knowing the dawn was near,
And when she saw the shadows lift
And all the skies turn deep and clear,
She fled to her room--he had not come.
They dared not speak to her of him,
Her mother, her sister--aye, any of them.
For her face was carven out of stone
And her little lips made moan, made moan.

Yet late that night when the house was still
She heard a horse ri