Ponder all the things he saw In his crowded, cluttered brain— Elves and fairies, sprites and trolls, Giant birds, huge rabbit holes, Yet the man himself seemed sane.
Grey and green and burnished brown,
Colors of an elf-queen’s gown, Or the foggy English skies Stretching somber up above— Moody colors children love And each generation buys— Rackham’s vision never dies.