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.

Walter De La Mare