Terrible Horse

Dreamed 1941 by Louise Bogan

O God, in the dream the terrible horse began To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows. Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane, And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose. Coward complete, I lay and wept on the ground When some strong creature appeared, and leapt for the rein. Another woman, as I lay half in a swound, Leapt in the air, and clutched at the leather and chain. "Give him," she said, "something of yours as a charm. Throw him", she said, "some poor thing you alone claim." "No, no," I cried, "he hates me; he's out for harm, And whether I yield or not, it is all the same." But, like a lion in a legend, when I flung the glove Pulled from my sweating, my cold right hand, The terrible beast, that no one may understand, Came to my side, and put down his head in love.

--Louise Bogan--