Walter de la Mare Quotes

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.

A face peered. All the grey night
In chaos of vacancy shone;
Nought but vast sorrow was there—
The sweet cheat gone.

"Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word," he said.

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

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

So, blind to Someone
I must be.

A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

A bumpity ride in a wagon of hay

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.

Wonderful lovely there she sat,
Singing the night away,
All in the solitudinous sea
Of that there lonely bay.

Three jolly huntsmen,
In coats of red,
Rode their horses
Up to bed.

"Is anybody there?" said the Traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor.

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

Poor tired Tim! It’s sad for him
He lags the long bright morning through,
Ever so tired of nothing to do.

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