Walter de la Mare Poems

All but blind
In his chambered hole,
Gropes for worms
The four-clawed mole.
...

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,
...

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.
...

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

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

While at her bedroom window once,
Learning her task for school,
Little Louisa lonely sat
In the morning clear and cool,
...

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