Nod Poem by Walter de la Mare

Nod

Rating: 2.7


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

His drowsy flock streams on before him,
Their fleeces charged with gold,
To where the sun's last beam leans low
On Nod the shepherd's fold.

The hedge is quick and green with briar,
From their sand the conies creep;
And all the birds that fly in heaven
Flock singing home to sleep.

His lambs outnumber a noon's roses,
Yet, when night's shadows fall,
His blind old sheep-dog, Slumber-soon,
Misses not one of all.

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.'

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Linda 15 June 2022

I really love this poem. It is so gentle and peaceful - so different to this post-covid world.

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Linda 14 June 2022

I love this poem. My father used to recite it to me as a little girl and I am now 77 years old.

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Linda 14 June 2022

My father used to recite 'Nod' to me when I was a little girl and I have always

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