"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." Reminds me of the poem "The Highway Man."
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.
Lady Letitia Lade-Rumored to have married a highwayman who hung at Tyburn, cursed like a sailor and rode like a professional. She started life as a prostitute but ended up marrying a baronet and becoming part of Prince George's debauched inner circle. She was never accepted into society even though the Prince liked her.
"He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand, As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!) Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west." The Highwayman - Alfred Noyes