Destroyers and Other Verses/The Post

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The Post.
Hark! a distant post-horn windingUnderneath the purple hills,Sets my languid pulses racingLike the tumbling mountain-rills.
See, the slow post-carriage crawlingLike a little yellow toy,Cracking whip, and three white horsesFill my silly heart with joy.
Hark! I hear the post-bells jangle,And the drum of clattering hoofsComes to me in windy snatchesUp above the pointed roofs.
See, it halts before the post-house;And the message that it brings,Stirs within me depths of gladness,And the flutter of Love's wings.
The Black Forest, 1855.
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