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Walter de la Mare

Walter de la Mare

The Veil

I think and think: yet still I fail -
Why must this lady wear a veil?
Why thus elect to mask her face
Beneath that dainty web of lace?
The tip of a small nose I see,
And two red lips, set curiously
Like twin-born berries on one stem,
And yet, she has netted even them.
Her eyes, ’tis plain, survey with ease
Whate’er to glance upon they please.
Yet, whether hazel, gray, or blue,
Or that even lovelier lilac hue,
I cannot guess: why– why deny
Such beauty to the passer-by?
Out of a bush a nightingale
May expound his song; from 'neath that veil
A happy mouth no doubt can make
English sound sweeter for its sake.
But then, why muffle in like this
What every blossomy wind would kiss?
Why in that little night disguise
A daybreak face, those starry eyes?

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Other works by Walter de la Mare...
The Moth

Isled in the midnight air, Musked with the dark’s faint bloom… Out into glooming and secret haunt… The flame cries, ‘Come!’ Lovely in dye and fan,
The Widow

Grief hath pacified her face; Even hope might share so still a p… Yet, on the silence of her heart, Haply, if a strange footfall start… Or a chance word of ecstasy
The Pigs and the Charcoal-Burner

The old Pig said to the little pi… ‘In the forest is truffles and mas… Follow me then, all ye little pigs… Follow me fast!’ The Charcoal-burner sat in the sh…
Concert for flute with Frederick the Great in Sanssouci, by Adolph Menzel
Music

When music sounds, gone is the ear… And all her lovely things even lov… Her flowers in vision flame, her f… Lift burdened branches, stilled wi… When music sounds, out of the wate…
November

THERE is wind where the rose was… Cold rain where sweet grass was, And clouds like sheep Stream o’er the steep Grey skies where the lark was.
 2
Alexander

It was the Great Alexander, Capped with a golden helm, Sate in the ages, in his floating… In a dead calm. Voices of sea-maids singing
The Remonstrance

I was at peace until you came And set a careless mind aflame; I lived in quiet; cold, content; All longing in safe banishment, Until your ghostly lips and eyes
Brueghel’s Winter

Jagg’d mountain peaks and skies ic… Wall in the wild, cold scene below… Churches, farms, bare copse, the s… In freezing quiet of winter show; Where ink-black shapes on fields i…
The World of Dream

Now, through the dusk With muffled bell The Dustman comes The World to tell, Night’s elfin lanterns
Hi!

Hi! Handsome hunting man, Fire your little gun, Bang! Now that animal Is dead and dumb and done. Never more to peep again, creep ag…
Miss T

It’s a very odd thing - As odd can be - That whatever Miss T eats Turns into Miss T.; Porridge and apples,
Miss Loo

When thin-strewn memory I look th… I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, Her nose, her hair—her muffled wor… And how she’d open her green eyes,
The Fool Rings His Bells (MOTLEY)

Come, Death, I’d have a word with… And thou, poor Innocency; And Love - a lad with broken win… Apnd Pity, too; The Fool shall sing to you,
The Old Men

Old and alone, sit we, Caged, riddle-rid men; Lost to earth’s ‘Listen!’ and ‘Se… Thought’s ‘Wherefore?’ and ‘When?… Only far memories stray
Alone

The abode of the nightingale is ba… Flowered frost congeals in the gel… The fox howls from his frozen lair… Alas, my loved one is gone, I am alone:



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