Midnight Visitor

We were visited last eveningBy a servant of the dayHe had travelled miles on horsebackTo scout his master's wayAnd he only had a momentTo warm his frozen handsAnd though he needed food and restHe told us of his landAnd all too soonHe had to leaveElse sleep might block his wayAnd so he thanked us both, and saddled upAnd softly rode awayAnd I thought I caught a glimpse of sun in his eyeAnd wheatfield in his smileAnd I couldn't help but a-thinkingThey would follow in a while