For he said it right viciously;
And he struck his steed with his armèd heel,
As though horse-flesh were tougher than iron or steel,
Or anything else that’s unable to feel.
What is the sound that meets his ear?
Is it the plaint of some wounded deer?
Is it the wild-fowl’s mournful cry,
Or the scream of yon eagle soaring high?
Or is it only the southern breeze
As it sighs through the boughs of the dark pine trees?