A woman driving Thomas Hardy

How she held up the horses’ heads,
       &nbsp Firm-lipped, with steady rein,
Down that grim steep the coastguard treads,
       &nbsp Till all was safe again!

With form erect and keen contour
       &nbsp She passed against the sea,
And, dipping into the chine’s obscure,
       &nbsp Was seen no more by me.

To others she appeared anew
       &nbsp At times of dusky light,
But always, so they told, withdrew
       &nbsp From close and curious sight.

Some said her silent wheels would roll
       &nbsp Rutless on softest loam,
And even that her steeds’ footfall
       &nbsp Sank not upon the foam.

Where drives she now? It may be where
       &nbsp No mortal horses are,
But in a chariot of the air
       &nbsp Towards some radiant star.