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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.

by Walter de la Mare
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