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Walter De La Mare
Walter De La Mare (1873–1956) was an English poet, short story writer, and novelist known for his works of supernatural fiction and children's literature. His most famous works include the poem "The Listeners" and the novel "Memoirs of a Midget," which showcase his skill in creating haunting atmospheres and exploring the complexities of the human mind. De La Mare's writing often delves into themes of imagination, mystery, and the ethereal, earning him a lasting place in English literature.
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SLEEPYHEAD As I lay awake in the white moonlight,I heard a faint singing in the wood, "Out of bed, Sleepyhead, Put your white foot, now; Here are we Beneath the tree Singing round the root now." I looked out of window, in the white moonlight,The leaves were like snow in the wood— "Come away, Child, and...
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THEY TOLD ME They told me Pan was dead, but I Oft marvelled who it was that sangDown the green valleys languidly Where the grey elder-thickets hang. Sometimes I thought it was a bird My soul had charged with sorcery;Sometimes it seemed my own heart heard Inland the sorrow of the sea. But even where the primrose sets The seal of her pale loveliness,I found amid the violets Tears of an...
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THE FAIRIES DANCINGI heardalong the early hills,Ere yet the lark was risen up,Ere yet the dawn with firelight fillsThe night-dew of the bramble-cup,—I heard the fairies in a ringSing as they tripped a lilting roundSoft as the moon on wavering wing.The starlight shook as if with sound,As if with echoing, and the starsPrankt their bright eyes with trembling gleamsWhile red with war the gusty MarsRained...
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Oh, what land is the Land of Dream? —WILLIAM BLAKE. I lived, then, in the great world once, in an old, roomy house beside a little wood of larches, with an aunt of the name of Sophia. My father and mother died a few days before my fourth birthday, so that I can conjure up only fleeting glimpses of their faces by which to remember what love was then lost to me. Both were youthful at death, but my Aunt...
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CHAPTER I On the borders of the Forest of Munza-mulgar lived once an old grey fruit-monkey of the name of Mutt-matutta. She had three sons, the eldest Thumma, the next Thimbulla, and the youngest, who was a Nizza-neela, Ummanodda. And they called each other for short, Thumb, Thimble, and Nod. The rickety, tumble-down old wooden hut in which they lived had been built 319 Munza years before by a...
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UP AND DOWN Down the Hill of Ludgate, Up the Hill of Fleet, To and fro and East and West With people flows the street; Even the King of England On Temple Bar must beat For leave to ride to Ludgate Down the Hill of Fleet. MRS. EARTH Mrs. Earth makes silver black, Mrs. Earth makes iron red But Mrs. Earth can not stain gold, Nor...
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Preface The Romantic poets rediscovered a pastoral and Biblical dream: that a child was the most innocent and the wisest of us all. Wordsworth hailed him as "Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!" And in the next generation Victorian novelists took that dream seriously enough to make children the heroes and heroines of their most searching fictions. There had been no "children's literature"...
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CHAPTER ONE The churchyard in which Arthur Lawford found himself wandering that mild and golden September afternoon was old, green, and refreshingly still. The silence in which it lay seemed as keen and mellow as the light—the pale, almost heatless, sunlight that filled the air. Here and there robins sang across the stones, elvishly shrill in the quiet of harvest. The only other living creature there...
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THE THREE CHERRY TREESThere were three cherry trees once,Grew in a garden all shady;And there for delight of so gladsome a sight,Walked a most beautiful lady,Dreamed a most beautiful lady.Birds in those branches did sing,Blackbird and throstle and linnet,But she walking there was by far the most fair—Lovelier than all else within it,Blackbird and throstle and linnet.But blossoms to berries do...
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