Elf-light, bat-light, Touchwood-light and toad-light, And the sea a shimmering gloom of grey, And a small face smiling In a dream's beguiling In a world of wonders far away. THE SONG OF SHADOWS Sweep thy faint Strings, Musician, With thy long lean hand; Downward the starry tapers burn, Sinks soft the waning sand; The old hound whimpers couched in sleep, The embers smoulder low; Across the walls the shadows Come, and go. Sweep softly thy strings, Musician, The minutes mount to hours; Frost on the windless casement weaves A labyrinth of flowers; Ghosts linger in the darkening air, Hearken at the open door; Music hath called them, dreaming, Home once more. THE SONG OF THE MAD PRINCE Who said, 'Peacock Pie?' The old King to the sparrow: Who said, 'Crops are ripe?' Rust to the harrow: Who said, 'Where sleeps she now?' Where rests she now her head, Bathed in eve's loveliness'? --- That's what I said. Who said, 'Ay, mum's the word'? Sexton to willow: Who said, 'Green duck for dreams, Moss for a pillow'? Who said, 'All Time's delight Hath she for narrow bed; Life's troubled bubble broken'? --- That's what I said. THE SONG OF FINIS AT the edge of All the Ages A Knight sate on his steed, His armor red and thin with rust His soul from sorrow freed; And he lifted up his visor From a face of skin and bone, And his horse turned head and whinnied As the twain stood there alone. No bird above that steep of time Sang of a livelong quest; No wind breathed, Rest: "Lone for an end!" cried Knight to steed, Loosed an eager rein-- Charged with his challenge into space: And quiet did quiet remain. End of Project Gutenberg's Peacock Pie, A Book of Rhymes, by Walter de la Mare