The Piper Beneath the tinsel twilight skies A changeling child with cinnamon eyes Wends his way to a secret glade and plays his pipe in a serenade. In and out of the spectral trees Between the starlight burnished leaves, He strolls the speckled toadstool way to join th elfin court in play. The brown owl hoots upon the oak The foxes howl and the green frogs croak As through the wood to a marvelous moon He blows the notes of an elfin tune. Towards the moss-weed bridge he goes Where burble-pebble water flows, Across the meadow up the hill And on the wind I hear him still . . .

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