The Song of Shadows

And thus the poet captures what I feel to be the very essence of good storytelling. A good fantasy book or good myth or good poem always conjures up this image in my mind, sometimes fully realized, sometimes only as a ghost or a whisper. Trust the magnificent de la Mare to capture the image in poetry, however!

The Song of Shadows

by Sir Walter de la Mare

"Sweep thy faint strings, Musician,
With thy long lean hand;
Downward the starry tapers burn,
Sinks soft the waning sand;
The old hound whimpers couched in sleep,
The embers smoulder low;
Across the walls the shadows
Come, and go.

Sweep softly thy strings, Musician,
The minutes mount to hours;
Frost on the windless casement weaves
A labyrinth of flowers;
Ghosts linger in the darkening air,
Hearken at the open door;
Music hath called them, dreaming,
Home once more."