Quote #16
His are the quiet steeps of dreamland, The waters of no-more-pain; His ram's bell rings 'neath an arch of stars, 'Rest, rest, and rest again.'
More from Walter de la Mare
- Softly along the road of evening, In a twilight dim with rose, Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew Old Nod, the shepherd, goes.
- We wake and whisper awhile, But, the day gone by, Silence and sleep like fields Of amaranth lie.
- Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Some one came knocking, I'm sure-sure-sure.
- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
- For beauty with sorrow Is a burden hard to be borne: The evening light on the foam, and the swans, there; That music, remote, forlorn.
- Old Rover in his moss-greened house Mumbles a bone, and barks at a mouse.
- Wonderful lovely there she sat, Singing the night away, All in the solitudinous sea Of that there lonely bay.
- Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer's day.