Walter de La Mare
Walter de La Mare
men iron feet
Tell them I came, and no one answered, That I kept my word," he said. 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: Ay, 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.
flower men rose
Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
men wind rose
Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are-- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
lying men chinese
After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts – like a Chinese nest of boxes – oaks that were acorns that were oaks. Death lies behind us, not in front – in our ancestors, back and back until...
angel men common
Once a man strays out of the common herd, he's more likely to meet wolves in the thickets than angels.
flower too-late fruit
Too late for fruit, too soon for flowers.
blind
So, blind to Someone I must be.
stars pain water
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.
lying sleep days-gone-by
We wake and whisper awhile, But, the day gone by, Silence and sleep like fields Of amaranth lie.
fun sleep animal
Hi! handsome hunting man Fire your little gun. Bang! Now the animal is dead and dumb and done. Nevermore to peep again, creep again, leap again, Eat or sleep or drink again. Oh, what fun!
sweet night sorrow
A face peered. All the grey night In chaos of vacancy shone; Nought but vast Sorrow was there The sweet cheat gone.
cat sight mind
As soon as they're out of your sight, you are out of their mind.
night moon silver
Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon.
dream light may
A lost but happy dream may shed its light upon our waking hours, and the whole day may be infected with the gloom of a dreary or sorrowful one; yet of neither may we be able to recover a trace.