cf. John Wootton, Portrait of a Man on Horseback
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher…
–Edgar Allan Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher
Who’s riding so late where winds blow wild?