Piper at the Gates of Dusk

Piper at the Gates of Dusk

‘NOW IT PASSES ON and I begin to lose it,’ he said presently.

‘O Mole! the beauty of it! The merry bubble and joy, the thin, clear, happy call of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in it is stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the music and the call must be for us.’

The Mole, greatly wondering, obeyed. ‘I hear nothing myself,’ he said.

—Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows,