At the edge of All the Ages
A Knight sat 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
Sand 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 remain.