The Veil
I think and think: yet still I fail — Why must this lady wear a veil?
Why thus elect to mask her
Beneath that dainty web of lace?
The tip of a small nose I see,
And two red lips, set
Like twin-born berries on one stem,
And yet, she has netted even them.
Her eyes, 'tis plain, survey with
Whate'er to glance upon they please.
Yet, whether hazel, gray, or blue,
Or that even lovelier lilac hue,
I cannot guess: why — why
Such beauty to the passer-by?
Out of a bush a
May expound his song; from 'neath that veilA happy mouth no doubt can
English sound sweeter for its sake.
But then, why muffle in like
What every blossomy wind would kiss?
Why in that little night disguiseA daybreak face, those starry eyes?
Walter de la Mare
Other author posts
Mistletoe
Sitting under the mistletoe(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), One last candle burning low, All the sleepy dancers gone, Just one candle burning on,
Good-bye
The last of last words spoken is, Good-bye -The last dismantled flower in the weed-grown hedge, The last thin rumour of a feeble bell far ringing, The last blind rat to spurn the mildewed rye
Hi!
Hi Handsome hunting man, Fire your little gun, Bang
Nicholas Nye
Thistle and darnell and dock grew there, And a bush, in the corner, of may, On the orchard wall I used to sprawl In the blazing heat of the day; Half asleep and half awake,