I heard an elf go whistling by,

A whistle sleek as moonlit grass,

That drew me like a silver string

To where the dusty, pale moths fly,

And make a magic as they pass;

And there I heard a cricket sing.

His singing echoed through and through

The dark under a windy tree

Where glinted little insects’ wings.

His singing split the sky in two.

The halves fell either side of me,

And I stood straight, bright with moon-rings.

1927