THE HORN

By Walter de la Mare

Hark! is that a horn I hear,

In cloudland winding sweet —

And bell-like clash of bridle-rein,

And silver-shod light feet?

Is it the elfin laughter of

Fairies riding faint and high,

‘ Neath the branches of the moon,

Straying through the starry sky?

Is it in the globèd dew

Such sweet melodies may fall?

Wood and valley — all are still,

Hushed the shepherd's call.

Hark! is that a horn I hear

In cloudland winding sweet?

Or gloomy goblins marching out

Their captain Puck to greet?