this poem was written by Alfred Noyes and it's called "The Highwayman" here is the romantic narrative poem in all it's beauty
the wind was a torrent of darkness in the gusty trees the moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas and the road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor and the highwayman came riding riding, riding oh, the highwayman came riding up to the old inn door
over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn yard and he tapped with his whip on the window but all was locked and barred so he whistled 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
one kiss, my bonny sweetheart for i'm after prize tonight but i shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light yet if they press me sharply and harry me through the day oh, then look for me by moonlight watch for me by moonlight and i'll come to thee by moonlight though hell should bar the way
he did not come at the dawning he did not come at the noon and out of the tawny sunset before the rise of the moon when the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor oh the redcoat troops came marching marching, marching King George's men came marching up to the old inn door
and they bound the landlord's daughter with many a sniggering jest and they bound the musket beside her with the barrel beneath her breast "now, keep good watch!", and they kissed her she heard the dead man say, "oh, look for me by moonlight watch for me by moonlight and i'll come to thee by moonlight though hell should bar the way."
look for me by moonlight hoofbeats ringing clear watch for me by moonlight were they deaf, that they did not hear? for he rode on the gypsy highway she breathed one final breath then her finger moved in the moonlight the musket shattered the moonlight and it shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death
he turned, he spurred on to the west for he did not know who stood bowed, with her black hair flowing down drenched with her own red blood no, not till the dawn had he heard it and his face grew grave to hear how Bess, the landlord's daughter, the landlord's black-eyed daughter had watched for her love in the moonlight and died in the darkness there
back he spurred like a madman shrieking a curse to the sky with the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high blood-red were his spurs in the golden moon wine-red his velvet coat when they shot him down on the highway down like a dog on the highway and he lay in his blood on the highway with a bunch of lace at his throat
and still, of 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 ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor oh, the highwayman comes riding riding, riding yes, the highwayman comes riding up to the old inn door