Red-lit with revelry.
Madly I rode; nor once looked back,
Before my face the world reeled, black
With nightmare wind and rain.
Witch-lights flared by me on the fen;
And through the forest—was it then
The eyes of wolves? or ghosts of men,
That flamed and fled again?
Still on I rode. My way was clear
From that wild time when, spear to spear,