Never the least stir made the listeners, Though every word he spake Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house From the one man left awake: Aye, they heard his foot upon the stirrup, And the sound of iron on stone, And how the silence surged softly backward, When the plunging hoofs were gone.

'Tell them I came, and no one answered, That I kept my word,' he said.

Who said 'Peacock Pie'? The old king to the sparrow: Who said 'Crops are ripe'? Rust to the harrow. Who said, 'Ay, mum's the word'? Sexton to willow. Who said,…

'Is anybody there?' said the Traveler, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence chomped the grasses Of the forest's ferny floor.