Walter de la Mare Quotes

His are the quiet steeps of dreamland,
The waters of no-more-pain;
His ram’s bell rings ‘neath an arch of stars,
“Rest, rest, and rest again.”

Some one came knocking
At my wee, small door;
Some one came knocking,
I’m sure—sure—sure.

‘What is the world, O soldiers?
It is I,
I, this incessant snow,
This northern sky.

Who knocks?' 'I, who was beautiful,
Beyond all dreams to restore,
I from the roots of the dark thorn am hither,
And knock on the door.

Dobbin at manger pulls his hay:
Gone is another summer’s day.

Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon.

“Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy;
“Pomegranates pink,” says Elaine;
“A junket of cream and a cranberry tart
For me,” says Jane.

We wake and whisper awhile,
But, the day gone by,
Silence and sleep like fields
Of amaranth lie.

Old Rover in his moss-greened house
Mumbles a bone, and barks at a mouse.

Who said "Peacock Pie"?
The old king to the sparrow:
Who said "Crops are ripe"?
Rust to the harrow. Who said, "Ay, mum's the word"?
Sexton to willow.
Who said, "Green dusk for dream?"
Moss for a pillow. Who said, "All Time’s delight
Hath she for narrow bed;
Life’s troubled bubble broken"?—
That’s what I said.

Here lies a most beautiful lady,
Light of step and heart was she;
I think she was the most beautiful lady
That ever was in the West Country.

Do diddle di do,
Poor Jim Jay
Got stuck fast
In Yesterday.

Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Aye, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

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

It's a very odd thing&mdas;
As odd as can be—
That whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.