On the Road to Chorrera

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THREE horsemen galloped the dusty way
  While sun and moon were both in the sky;
An old crone crouched in the cactus’ shade,
  And craved an alms as they rode by.
  A friendless hag she seemed to be,  
  But the queen of a bandit crew was she.

One horseman tossed her a scanty dole,
  A scoffing couplet the second trolled;
But the third, from his blue eyes frank and free,
  No glance vouchsafed the beldam old;  
  As toward the sunset and the sea,
  No evil fearing, rode the three.

A curse she gave for the pittance small,
  A gibe for the couplet ’s ribald word;
But that which once had been her heart  
  At sight of the silent horseman stirred:
  And safe through the ambushed band they speed
  For the sake of the rider who would not heed!

© Arlo Bates