WHITE HORSES
PHANTOM-LIKE, the fawn
On spindle legs flees through the forest ; The wary rabbit scuttles in the undergrowth, Tasting, discarding, with nibbling lips ; the mouse Streaks like a puff of smoke through ferns and grasses, Larks tread the air above ; but the slim stoat, Cunning. and watchful, Silently glides to cover.
So through the mind Thoughts flash and hurry, pause and disappear, Benign and friendly, furtive and disowned. Some in the shadows lurk, and sonic display In airy carelessness their glittering wings, Or cluster flower-like on the boughs.
But some • Desert the known, the laid-out forest ways, And hurl themselves, troops of white horses With thundering hooves and undulating manes, In a wild gallop down the open road Towards the goal of Truth.
Eve MARTIN.
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