The Highwayman again...

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him, and his rapier brandished high!
Blood red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down on the highway
Down like a dog on the highway
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

Alfred Noyes