"The Highwayman"
by Alfred Noyes

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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 ridingó
     Ridingóridingó
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

 
 
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