Song Of The Mad Prince By Walter De La Mare

Song of the Mad Prince Who said, “Peacock Pie”? The old King to the sparrow: Who said, “Crops are ripe”? Rust to the harrow: Who…

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Comfort By Walter De La Mare

Comfort As I mused by the hearthside, Puss said to me; ‘there burns the fire , man, and here sit we. Four walls around us…

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The Sleeper By Walter De La Mare

The Sleeper As Ann came in one summer’s day, She felt that she must creep, So silent was the clear cool house, It seemed a…

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November By Walter De La Mare

November THERE is wind where the rose was, Cold rain where sweet grass was, And clouds like sheep Stream o’er the steep Grey skies where…

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Alexander By Walter De La Mare

Alexander It was the Great Alexander, Capped with a golden helm, Sate in the ages, in his floating ship, In a dead calm. Voices of…

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The Ghost By Walter De La Mare

The Ghost Peace in thy hands, Peace in thine eyes, Peace on thy brow; Flower of a moment in the eternal hour, Peace with me…

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How Sleep The Brave By Walter De La Mare

How Sleep The Brave Bitterly, England must thou grieve — Though none of these poor men who died But did within his soul believe That…

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The World Of Dream By Walter De La Mare

The World Of Dream Now, through the dusk With muffled bell The Dustman comes The World to tell, Night’s elfin lanterns Burn and gleam in…

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Sotto Voce By Walter De La Mare

Sotto Voce To Edward Thomas The haze of noon wanned silver-grey, The soundless mansion of the sun; The air made visible in his ray, Like…

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Brueghel’s Winter By Walter De La Mare

Brueghel’s Winter Jagg’d mountain peaks and skies ice-green Wall in the wild, cold scene below. Churches, farms, bare copse, the sea In freezing quiet of…

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The Song Of Shadows By Walter De La Mare

The Song Of Shadows “Sweep thy faint strings, Musician, With thy long lean hand; Downward the starry tapers burn, Sinks soft the waning sand; The…

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The Old Men By Walter De La Mare

The Old Men Old and alone, sit we, Caged, riddle-rid men; Lost to earth’s ‘Listen!’ and ‘See!’ Thought’s ‘Wherefore?’ and ‘When?’ Only far memories stray…

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Nod By Walter De La Mare

Nod Softly along the road of evening, In a twilight dim with rose, Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew Old Nod, the shepherd, goes….

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All That’s Past By Walter De La Mare

All That’s Past Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier’s boughs, When March winds wake, So old with…

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The Market-Place By Walter De La Mare

The Market-Place My mind is like a clamorous market-place. All day in wind, rain, sun, its babel wells; Voice answering to voice in tumult swells….

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John Mouldy By Walter De La Mare

John Mouldy I spied John Mouldy in his celler, Deep down twenty steps of stone; In the dusk he sat a-smiling Smiling there all alone….

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Tit For Tat By Walter De La Mare

Tit For Tat Have you been catching fish, Tom Noddy? Have you snared a weeping hare? Have you whistled ‘No Nunny’ and gunned a poor…

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Tartary By Walter De La Mare

Tartary If I were Lord of Tartary, Myself, and me alone, My bed should be of ivory, Of beaten gold my throne; And in my…

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Autumn (November) By Walter De La Mare

AUTUMN (November) There is a wind where the rose was, Cold rain where sweet grass was, And clouds like sheep Stream o’er the steep Grey…

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The Scribe By Walter De La Mare

The Scribe What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass, The speck of the…

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The Mocking Fairy By Walter De La Mare

The Mocking Fairy ‘Won’t you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?’ Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden; ‘Can’t you look out of…

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Old Susan By Walter De La Mare

Old Susan When Susan’s work was done, she’d sit With one fat guttering candle lit, And window opened wide to win The sweet night air…

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Winter Dusk By Walter De La Mare

Winter Dusk Dark frost was in the air without, The dusk was still with cold and gloom, When less than even a shadow came And…

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The Fool Rings His Bells (Motley) By Walter De La Mare

The Fool Rings His Bells (MOTLEY) Come, Death, I’d have a word with thee; And thou, poor Innocency; And Love – a lad with broken…

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I Can’t Abear By Walter De La Mare

I Can’T Abear I can’t abear a butcher, I can’t abide his meat, The ugliest shop of all is his, The ugliest in the street;…

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The Veil By Walter De La Mare

The Veil I think and think: yet still I fail — Why must this lady wear a veil? Why thus elect to mask her face…

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Some One By Walter De La Mare

Some One Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Someone came knocking; I’m sure-sure-sure; I listened, I opened, I looked to left and…

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Bones By Walter De La Mare

Bones Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot Tell you, Dr. Jones— The most peculiar pain I’m in— I think it’s in my bones.” Said Dr….

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The Scarecrow By Walter De La Mare

The Scarecrow All winter through I bow my head beneath the driving rain; the North Wind powders me with snow and blows me black again;…

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The Moth By Walter De La Mare

The Moth Isled in the midnight air, Musked with the dark’s faint bloom, Out into glooming and secret haunts The flame cries, ‘Come!’ Lovely in…

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Nicholas Nye By Walter De La Mare

Nicholas Nye Thistle and darnell and dock grew there, And a bush, in the corner, of may, On the orchard wall I used to sprawl…

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Winter By Walter De La Mare

Winter Clouded with snow The cold winds blow, And shrill on leafless bough The robin with its burning breast Alone sings now. The rayless sun,…

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The Empty House By Walter De La Mare

The Empty House See this house, how dark it is Beneath its vast-boughed trees! Not one trembling leaflet cries To that Watcher in the skies—…

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Hi! By Walter De La Mare

Hi! Hi! Handsome hunting man, Fire your little gun, Bang! Now that animal Is dead and dumb and done. Never more to peep again, creep…

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The Tryst By Walter De La Mare

The Tryst Flee into some forgotten night and be Of all dark long my moon-bright company: Beyond the rumour even of Paradise come, There, out…

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Snow By Walter De La Mare

Snow No breath of wind, No gleam of sun – Still the white snow Whirls softly down Twig and bough And blade and thorn All…

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As I Was Walking By Walter De La Mare

As I Was Walking As I was walking, Thyme sweet to my nose, Green grasshoppers talking, Rose rivalling rose: And wing, like amber, Dispread in…

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The Seas Of England By Walter De La Mare

The Seas Of England The seas of England are our old delight: Let the loud billow of the shingly shore Sing freedom on her breezes…

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The Pigs And The Charcoal-Burner By Walter De La Mare

The Pigs And The Charcoal-Burner The old Pig said to the little pigs, ‘In the forest is truffles and mast, Follow me then, all ye…

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Music By Walter De La Mare

Music When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, And all her lovely things even lovelier grow; Her flowers in vision flame, her forest…

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Why By Walter De La Mare

Why Ever, ever Stir and shiver The reeds and rushes By the river: Ever, ever, As if in dream, The lone moon’s silver Sleeks the…

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The Fly By Walter De La Mare

The Fly How large unto the tiny fly Must little things appear!- A rosebud like a feather bed, Its prickle like a spear; A dewdrop…

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Martha By Walter De La Mare

Martha “Once…Once upon a time…” Over and over again, Martha would tell us her stories, In the hazel glen. Hers were those clear gray eyes…

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The Titmouse By Walter De La Mare

The Titmouse If you would happy company win, Dangle a palm-nut from a tree, Idly in green to sway and spin, Its snow-pulped kernel for…

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Sleep By Walter De La Mare

Sleep When all, and birds, and creeping beasts, When the dark of night is deep, From the moving wonder of their lives Commit themselves to…

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At Ease By Walter De La Mare

At Ease Most wounds can Time repair; But some are mortal — these: For a broken heart there is no balm, No cure for a…

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The Ruin By Walter De La Mare

The Ruin When the last colours of the day Have from their burning ebbed away, About that ruin, cold and lone, The cricket shrills from…

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The Night-Swans By Walter De La Mare

The Night-Swans ‘Tis silence on the enchanted lake, And silence in the air serene, Save for the beating of her heart, The lovely-eyed Evangeline. She…

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Mulla-Mulgars’ Journey Song By Walter De La Mare

Mulla-Mulgars’ Journey Song That one, alone, Who’s dared and gone To seek the Magic Wonderstone, No fear, or care, Or black despair Shall heed until…

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When The Rose Is Faded By Walter De La Mare

When The Rose Is Faded When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. That vanishing…

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The Children Of Stare By Walter De La Mare

The Children Of Stare Winter is fallen early On the house of Stare; Birds in reverberating flocks Haunt its ancestral box; Bright are the plenteous…

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Good-Bye By Walter De La Mare

Good-Bye The last of last words spoken is, Good-bye – The last dismantled flower in the weed-grown hedge, The last thin rumour of a feeble…

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The Three Strangers By Walter De La Mare

The Three Strangers Far are those tranquil hills, Dyed with fair evening’s rose; On urgent, secret errand bent, A traveller goes. Approach him strangers three,…

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Silver By Walter De La Mare

Silver Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver…

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An Epitaph By Walter De La Mare

An Epitaph Here lies a most beautiful lady, Light of step and heart was she; I think she was the most beautiful lady That ever…

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The Remonstrance By Walter De La Mare

The Remonstrance I was at peace until you came And set a careless mind aflame; I lived in quiet; cold, content; All longing in safe…

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The Mother Bird By Walter De La Mare

The Mother Bird Through the green twilight of a hedge I peered, with cheek on the cool leaves pressed, And spied a bird upon a…

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Moonlight By Walter De La Mare

Moonlight The far moon maketh lovers wise In her pale beauty trembling down, Lending curved cheeks, dark lips, dark eyes, A strangeness not their own….

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Wanderers By Walter De La Mare

Wanderers Wide are the meadows of night, And daisies are shinng there, Tossing their lovely dews, Lustrous and fair; And through these sweet fields go,…

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The Corner Stone By Walter De La Mare

The Corner Stone Sterile these stones By time in ruin laid. Yet many a creeping thing Its haven has made In these least crannies, where…

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