_Toll_, the music reeled and pealed Through the vast and sombre trees, Where a rosy light revealed Dimmer, sweeter mysteries; And, like petals of the rose, Fairy fans in beauty beat, Light in light--ah, what were those Rhymes we heard the night repeat? _Toll_, a dream within a dream, Up an aisle of rose and blue, Up the music’s perfumed stream Came the words, and then we knew, Knew that in that distant glen Once again the case was tried, Hark!--_Who killed Cock Robin, then?_ And a tiny voice replied, “_I_ _killed_ _Cock_ _Robin!_” “_I!_ And who are _You_, sir, pray?” Growled a voice that froze our marrow: “Who!” we heard the murderer say, “Lord, sir, I’m the famous Sparrow, And this ’ere’s my bow and arrow! “_I_ _killed_ _Cock_ _Robin!_” Then, with one great indrawn breath, Such a sighin’ and a sobbin’ Rose all round us for the death Of poor, poor Cock Robin, Oh, we couldn’t bear to wait Even to hear the murderer’s fate, Which we’d often wished to know Sitting in the fireside glow And with hot revengeful looks Searched for in the nursery-books; For the Robin and the Wren Are such friends to mortal men, Such dear friends to mortal men! _Toll_; and through the woods once more Stole we, drenched with fragrant dew: _Toll_; the hare-bell’s burden bore Deeper meanings than we knew: Still it told us there was fear, Horror, peril on our way! Was it far or was it near? _Near_, we heard the night-wind say! _Near_; and once or twice we saw Something like a monstrous eye, Something like a hideous claw Steal between us and the sky: Still we hummed a dauntless tune Trying to think such things might be Glimpses of the fairy moon Hiding in some hairy tree. Yet around us as we went Through the glades of rose and blue Sweetness with the horror blent Wonder-wild in scent and hue: Here Aladdin’s cavern yawned, Jewelled thick with gorgeous dyes; There a head of clover dawned Like a cloud in eastern skies. Hills of topaz, lakes of dew, Fairy cliffs of crystal sheen Passed we; and the forest’s blue Sea of branches tossed between: Once we saw a gryphon make One soft iris as it passed Like the curving meteor’s wake O’er the forest, far and fast. Winged with purple, breathing flame, Crimson-eyed we saw him go, Where--ah! could it be the same Cockchafer we used to know?-- Valley-lilies overhead, High aloof in clustered spray, Far through heaven their splendour spread, Glimmering like the Milky Way.