Quote #22
So, blind to Someone I must be.
More from Walter de la Mare
- All but blind In his chambered hole Gropes for worms The four-clawed Mole.
- What lovely things Thy hand hath made.
- Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer's day.
- 'Bunches of grapes,' says Timothy; 'Pomegranates pink,' says Elaine; 'A junket of cream and a cranberry tart For me,' says Jane.
- Old Rover in his moss-greened house Mumbles a bone, and barks at a mouse.
- 'A bumpity ride in a wagon of hay'
- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
- Poor tired Tim! It's sad for him He lags the long bright morning through, Ever so tired of nothing to do.