“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,And the highwayman came riding--Riding--riding--The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.”

“And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor, The highwayman comes riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door. Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard, He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred, He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.”

“Over the MountainsOf the Moon,Down the Valley of the Shadow,Ride, boldly ride,"The shade replied,-"If you seek for Eldorado.”

“The moon grew full, then slowly pared itself down until it shriveled into a ghostly boat riding above the roiling dark. Then it fell out of the sky. They climbed into it, left land behind, and floated out to sea.”

“Honor and duty will ride upon my shoulders till the day I die, like the old man of the sea, who once picked up can never be put dow.”

“The Lord's mercy often rides to the door of our heart upon the black horse of affliction.”