A Pony comes running,
his white coat dully shining.
Sunlight sparkles in black eyes,
through the wind his long mane flies.
From the doorway of the Inn,
out steps one who knows his kin.
With a laugh he waves farewell,
gives a whistle like a bell.
With lightning ease the Pony stops,
White Rider on his back lightly hops.
One last ride they both shall make,
to Grey ship together they’ll take.