Walter John De la Mare

Poetry

Wanderers

5.00(1 votes)

Poetry

Why?

4.88(66 votes)

More

Alone

4.47   (15 votes)

The abode of the nightingale is bare,

Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,

The fox howls from his frozen lair:

Alas, my loved one is gone,

I am alone:

It is winter.

 

Once the pink cast a winy smell,

The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell,

Light in effulgence of beauty fell:

I am alone:

It is winter.

 

My candle a silent fire doth shed,

Starry Orion hunts o'erhead;

Come moth, come shadow, the world is dead:

Alas, my loved one is gone,

I am alone;

It is winter.

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