Author Richard Henry Dana Matt lords it now throughout the isle; His hand falls heavier than before; All dread alike his frown or smile. None come within his door,Save those who dipped their hands in blood with him;Save those who laughed to see the white horse swim. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments