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Walter de la Mare

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,


"Lone for an end!" cried Knight to steed,

Loosed an eager rein—

Charged with his challenge into space:

And quiet did quiet remain.