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"source_title": "The Phantom Horsewoman",
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"title": "The Phantom Horsewoman",
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"summary": "The poem follows a careworn man who stands by the sea and fixes his gaze on the sand and haze, repeatedly summoned by a vivid, almost hallucinatory memory: a sweet, sunlit scene of a girl riding by the briny shore. That vision is not a passing glimpse but a persistent phantom that inhabits his mind day and night, sharper and more alive than his present; others call it an instant of the past made constant. The contrast between the man's physical withering and the timeless gaiety of the \"ghost-girl-rider\" emphasizes themes of nostalgia, imagination's power to preserve moments against the erosion of time, and the haunting way memory can both sustain and unmoor someone from the present.",
"clean_summary": "The poem follows a careworn man who stands by the sea and fixes his gaze on the sand and haze, repeatedly summoned by a vivid, almost hallucinatory memory: a sweet, sunlit scene of a girl riding by the briny shore. That vision is not a passing glimpse but a persistent phantom that inhabits his mind day and night, sharper and more alive than his present; others call it an instant of the past made constant. The contrast between the man's physical withering and the timeless gaiety of the \"ghost-girl-rider\" emphasizes themes of nostalgia, imagination's power to preserve moments against the erosion of time, and the haunting way memory can both sustain and unmoor someone from the present.",
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"I Queer are the ways of a man I know: He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And the seaward haze With moveless hands And face and gaze, Then turns to go… And what does he see when he gazes so?",
"II They say he sees as an instant thing More clear than to-day, A sweet soft scene That once was in play By that briny green; Yes, notes alway Warm, real, and keen, What his back years bring— A phantom of his own figuring.",
"III Of this vision of his they might say more: Not only there Does he see this sight, But everywhere In his brain—day, night, As if on the air It were drawn rose-bright— Yea, far from that shore Does he carry this vision of heretofore:",
"IV A ghost-girl-rider. And though, toil-tried, He withers daily, Time touches her not, But she still rides gaily In his rapt thought On that shagged and shaly Atlantic spot, And as when first eyed Draws rein and sings to the swing of the tide."
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"body_text": "I Queer are the ways of a man I know: He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And the seaward haze With moveless hands And face and gaze, Then turns to go… And what does he see when he gazes so?\n\nII They say he sees as an instant thing More clear than to-day, A sweet soft scene That once was in play By that briny green; Yes, notes alway Warm, real, and keen, What his back years bring— A phantom of his own figuring.\n\nIII Of this vision of his they might say more: Not only there Does he see this sight, But everywhere In his brain—day, night, As if on the air It were drawn rose-bright— Yea, far from that shore Does he carry this vision of heretofore:\n\nIV A ghost-girl-rider. And though, toil-tried, He withers daily, Time touches her not, But she still rides gaily In his rapt thought On that shagged and shaly Atlantic spot, And as when first eyed Draws rein and sings to the swing of the tide.",
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"I Queer are the ways of a man I know: He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And the seaward haze With moveless hands And face and gaze, Then turns to go... And what does he see when he gazes so?",
"II They say he sees as an instant thing More clear than to-day, A sweet soft scene That once was in play By that briny green; Yes, notes alway Warm, real, and keen, What his back years bring - A phantom of his own figuring.",
"III Of this vision of his they might say more: Not only there Does he see this sight, But everywhere In his brain - day, night, As if on the air It were drawn rose-bright - Yea, far from that shore Does he carry this vision of heretofore:",
"IV A ghost-girl-rider. And though, toil-tried, He withers daily, Time touches her not, But she still rides gaily In his rapt thought On that shagged and shaly Atlantic spot, And as when first eyed Draws rein and sings to the swing of the tide."
],
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"I Queer are the ways of a man I know: He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And the seaward haze With moveless hands And face and gaze, Then turns to go... And what does he see when he gazes so?",
"II They say he sees as an instant thing More clear than to-day, A sweet soft scene That once was in play By that briny green; Yes, notes alway Warm, real, and keen, What his back years bring - A phantom of his own figuring.",
"III Of this vision of his they might say more: Not only there Does he see this sight, But everywhere In his brain - day, night, As if on the air It were drawn rose-bright - Yea, far from that shore Does he carry this vision of heretofore:",
"IV A ghost-girl-rider. And though, toil-tried, He withers daily, Time touches her not, But she still rides gaily In his rapt thought On that shagged and shaly Atlantic spot, And as when first eyed Draws rein and sings to the swing of the tide."
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