The Highwayman

The Highwayman - Alfred Noyes 1880-1958

Part One

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.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
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.

And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like moldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say -

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
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,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' 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,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.

Part Two

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching-
Marching-marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say-
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one figure touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still!

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew gray 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 i' the golden noon; wine-red was 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,
A highwayman comes riding,
Riding-riding,
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And 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.

The End

Can't just post nothing.

I know it's monday and I really should post something about my progress as of last week, but the muscles in my back are killing me when I type (not to mention on in my upper arm). Maybe it's from sitting at the computer too long. Probably. I've been working on 2 web pages, 2 banners, and a new blog layout and I'm pooped.

Well, I still should post some thing writerlly, so here it is. Info on publicists.

I did a search on publicists late last week wanting to know what they did, how they did it, and what makes them tick. I didn't come up with much original content, but I did find some stuff, but I did find some useful pages. I may just hop into this field my self.

Here you go, the links:
http://www.dnapublications.com/stories/publicist.htm
http://www.romanceauthorspage.com/hiringpublicist.htm

For those who are curious about the web work I've been doing, visit my web page [amberjennell.com]. I created a new banner for Enchanted Ramglings [link] and have it up on my site. View it and let me know what you think.

and as always, happy writing!
Amber

Is a title really needed?

Do you remember that little post I made a few weeks ago? You know the one, about the new line with manga (*squeal*) covers? Yes, that's the one. Can you believe I have it up to 12 chapters already? Not completely written out, mostly outlined with pieces of story dispersed through out. It's coming along wonderfully, but I may change my mind about submitting it to Dorchester.

Right now it's branched into two books, and I'd really like to keep it that way. I know, the decision of making it two books lays (mostly) with the editor. I don't care. I've written out two alternate endings, one for a one-book proposal, and another for a two-book proposal. We'll see what happens, hum? Please, keep your fingers crossed.

Don't even ask me what I've decided to call it or the series...

I'm in the middle of two rather large web design projects. One for a motivational speaker and another for a non-profit horse rescue. One I'm being paid for, the other I'm not. Despite that, I have several projects I'd like to work on.

1. Finish my 'manga' outline
2. Finish short story 1
3. Start and finish short story 2
4. Send off short story 1
5. Start short story 3

If I'm lucky, I will be able to start all this at the start of April. Again, keep your fingers crossed.

So, what are your monthly goals for next month? Are they the same as this month? Different? Or did you drop them all together? Well, what ever you decide to do, I hope you give it your best and keep at it.

Happy Writing,
Amber Jennell

Death of a Character

Some times it amazes me how easily I can come up with characters. Good characters; ones that make sense, ones that fit into the story smoothly and add texture to the plot. Such is the case of the two secondary characters for my manga-style story. They, as far as I can in vision, add depth to the plot, a comic chuckle now and again, and a little extra that just needs to be added. Personally, I love these characters. They’re great to get along with, good friends to the hero, have amazingly strong personalities and strong convictions. Unfortunately, that may be a reason I need to kill one of them off.

I know, I know, how terrible! It is terrible; the character I may kill off is a very kind, loving woman. Her death will completely change the other character’s personality forever. So, if her death is going to make such a terrible impact, why do it? For that reason alone. Her death will give my story a much-needed tern. The bad guy is about to win, the hero and heroine are nearing that very curtail point in the story that will either end it there (happily or not) or cause the whole thing to fall apart. A hard turning point is needed, and this is the only one that comes to mind. Trust me, I’ve thought long and hard over it. Right now, I’m thinking. Unfortunately, not even my dinner of a Monte Cristo sandwich and an ice-cold glass of Mug Rootbeer could help.

Ah, well, things could change. I like my character, and if there is any way I can save her from being killed, I’ll find it. If not… Please, no hate mail, thank you.

Happy Writing,
Amber Jennell

A New Home?

OMG, I found a new genre! Read this:

Dorchester is launching a new romance line, line name as yet to be determined. Aimed at a young, hip audience, these books will feature 18-25 year old heroines and will be packaged with Manga-style covers. The stories will feature a heroine "stolen from her normal life into an alternate universe--a universe that challenges all she thought she knew.“ The hero will usually be in a position of some power or in the know in the new world. The stories should be told primarily from the heroine's point-of-view, and should have a strong narrative voice.

Did you read it?! Manga-style covers!! *squeal* Do you know that this makes me think of? Escaflowne, but with a HEA (happily ever after) ending. Oh, I am going to start working on this... now!! I have an idea in mind already, and it’s just waiting to pop onto paper. What do you all think? Does it sound like something you’d all be interested in? It would be like manga with out the art (omg, did I really say that?!). I’m sure the covers will be ogle-worthy. *sigh* I’m all antsy, sitting here typing. Oh, and we have thunder and lightning right now! What better atmosphere to plot out a ‘yank‘ scene? Er, on paper that is ^_^

Ok, that was rather strange. I may have lost myself a bit there. Ok, I'm fine now. Manga is put into the back of my mind and I can breath properly. My hand is a bit sore, but...

Well, it's Saturday night, and I'm ready for bed (yes, I'm that pathetic). I plan on working on my writing tomorrow since our horseshow was canceled due to rain. What a bummer.

Happy Writing all, and stay dry!
Amber Jennell