In the blackened moon Of the horseback bandits Spurs chant out a song: "Swarthy little pony Where are you and your dead rider going?" Sturdy spurs, and strong Of the stirless bandit Who let the reins down: "Chilly little pony What a dagger-blossom! What aroma!" In the blackened moon Dusky Peak was bleeding, Bleeding from a wound. "Swarthy little pony Where are you and your dead rider going?" Then the night with spurs Kicked its sable sides and Pricked itself with stars: "Chilly little pony What a dagger-blossom! What aroma!" In the blackened moon Shrieks and screams!- Intoning Of the bonfire's horn! "Swarthy little pony Where are you and your dead rider going?"