Walter de la Mare Poems

The abode of the nightingale is bare,
Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,
The fox howls from his frozen lair:
Alas, my loved one is gone,
...

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.
...

Very old are the woods;
And the buds that break
Out of the brier's boughs,
When March winds wake,
...

There is a wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
...

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

Three jolly Farmers
Once bet a pound
Each dance the others would
Off the ground.
...

When the rose is faded,
Memory may still dwell on
Her beauty shadowed,
And the sweet smell gone.
...

Clouded with snow
The cold winds blow,
And shrill on leafless bough
The robin with its burning breast
...

As I was walking,
Thyme sweet to my nose,
Green grasshoppers talking,
Rose rivalling rose:
...

No breath of wind,
No gleam of sun –
Still the white snow
Whirls softly down
...