Walter de la Mare

I spied John Mouldy in his celler,
Deep down twenty steps of stone;
In the dusk he sat
Smiling there all alone

It's a very odd thing -  As odd can be -That whatever Miss T eats  Turns into Miss T
;
Porridge and apples,  Mince, muffins and mutton,
Jam, junket, jumbles -  Not a rap, not a

'Who knocks
' 'I, who was beautiful Beyond all dreams to restore,
I from the roots of the dark thorn am hither,
And knock on the door

Nay, nay, sweet England, do not grieve
Not one of these poor men who died But did within his soul believe That death for thee was glorified
Ever they watched it hovering near That mystery 'yond thought to plumb,
Perchance sometimes ...

Sitting under the mistletoe(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,

One night as Dick lay half asleep,
Into his drowsy eyes A great still light began to creep From out the silent skies
It was the lovely moon's, for when He raised his dreamy head,
Her surge of silver filled the pane And streamed acro...

Once, once upon a time
Over and over again,
Martha would tell us her stories,
In the hazel glen

As I mused by the hearthside,
Puss said to me;"there burns the fire , man,and here sit we
Four walls around usagainst the cold air;and the latch drawn closeto the draughty stair
A roof o'er our headsstar-proof, moon immune,and ...

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

Said Mr
Smith, “I really
Tell you,
Dr

When I lie where shades of darkness Shall no more assail mine eyes,
Nor the rain make lamentation When the wind sighs;
How will fare the world whose wonder Was the very proof of me
Memory fades, must the remembered Perishing be

Hi
Handsome hunting man,
Fire your little gun,
Bang