[Evisse the Blue]

From The Nameless Land (later the song of Elfwine):

There lingering lights do golden lie
On grass more green than in gardens here,
On trees more tall that touch the sky
With silver leaves a-swinging clear:
By magic dewed they may not die
Where fades nor falls the endless year,
Where ageless afternoon goes by
O'er mead and mound and silent mere.
There draws no dusk of evening near,
Where voices move in veiled choir,
Or shrill in sudden singing clear.
And the woods are filled with wondering fire.

And from Leaf by Niggle, which I had just finished reading (wonderful story indeed):

"It's a gift!" he said. He was referring to his art, and also to the result; but he was using the word quite literally.

"Footler," sighed Atkins. "Yes, poor little man, he never finished anything. Ah well, his canvases have been put to 'better uses,' since he went. But I am not sure, Tompkins. You remember that large one, the one they used to patch the damaged house next door to his, after the gales and floods? I found a corner of it torn off, lying in a field. It was damaged, but legible: a mountain-peak and a spray of leaves. I can't get it out of my mind."

When I read this bit, I got tears in my eyes, God knows why...

PS: lindil, thanks for the wonderful Lay of Aotrou and Itroun!
PPS: Can anyone quote from Pearl and Sir Orfeo? Sadly I don't have those... [img]smilies/frown.gif[/img]