wind in the willows: continued

VII

THE PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN
...
Then a change began slowly to declare itself. The horizon became
clearer, field and tree came more into sight, and somehow with a
different look; the mystery began to drop away from them. A bird piped
suddenly, and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the
reeds and bulrushes rustling. Rat, who was in the stern of the boat,
while Mole sculled, sat up suddenly and listened with a passionate
intentness. Mole, who with gentle strokes was just keeping the boat
moving while he scanned the banks with care, looked at him with
curiosity.

"It's gone!" sighed the Rat, sinking back in his seat again. "So
beautiful and strange and new! Since it was to end so soon, I almost
wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is
pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once
more and go on listening to it for ever. No! There it is again!" he
cried, alert once more. Entranced, he was silent for a long space,
spellbound.

"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,
"but the wind playing in the reeds and rushes and osiers."

The Rat never answered, if indeed he heard. Rapt, transported,
trembling, he was possessed in all his senses by this new divine thing
that caught up his helpless soul and swung and dandled it, a powerless
but happy infant in a strong sustaining grasp.