Women in Love (1921)
D. H. Lawrence 

    "The fool!" cried Ursula loudly.  "Why doesn’t he ride away till it’s gone by?"

     Gudrun was looking at him with black-dilated, spellbound eyes.   But he sat glistening and obstinate, forcing the wheeling mare, which spun and swerved like a wind, and yet could not get out of the grasp of his will, nor escape from the mad clamor of terror that resounded through her, as the trucks thumped slowly, heavily, horrifying, one after the other, one pursuing the other, over the rails of the crossing.

     The locomotive, as if wanting to see what could be done, put on the brakes, and back came the trucks rebounding on the iron buffers, striking like horrible cymbals, clashing nearer and nearer in frightful strident concussions.  The mare opened her mouth and rose slowly, as if lifted up on a wind of terror.  Then suddenly her fore-feet struck out, as she convulsed herself utterly away from the horror.  Back she went, and the two girls clung to each other, feeling she must fall backwards on top of him.  But he leaned forward, his face shining with fixed amusement, and at last he brought her down, sank her down, and was bearing her back to the mark.  But as strong as the pressure of his compulsion was the repulsion of her utter terror, throwing her back away from the railway, so that she spun round and round on two legs, as if she were in the centre of some whirlwind.  It made Gudrun faint with poignant dizziness, which seemed to penetrate to her heart.

[D. H. Lawrence, Women in Love.  New York: Seltzer, 1921.]