The moment I saw her I loved her.
The black horse stopped before me.

The wild troop drew up and waited behind.

The great, lean rider looked at me a moment, and then, lifting the little girl in his long arms, bent down and set her gently on her feet on the mossy earth in the mist beside me.

I got up to greet her, and we stood smiling at each other.

And in that moment as we stood the black horse moved forward, the muffled trampling began again, the wild company swept on its way, and the white mist closed behind it as if it had never passed.
Of course I know how strange this will seem to people who read it, but that cannot be helped and does not really matter.