The Project Gutenberg EBook of Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two 
Volumes by Walter de la Mare 
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Title: Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two Volumes 
Volume I. 
Author: Walter de la Mare 
Release Date: April 14, 2004 [EBook #12031] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
0. START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLLECTED 
POEMS 1901-1918 *** 
Produced by Ted Garvin and PG Distributed Proofreaders 
COLLECTED POEMS 
1901-1918 
BY 
WALTER DE LA MARE 
IN TWO VOLUMES 
VOL. I 
1920
CONTENTS 
POEMS: 1906 
LYRICAL POEMS--
SHADOW
UNREGARDING
THEY 
TOLD ME
SORCERY
THE CHILDREN OF STARE
AGE
THE GLIMPSE
REMEMBRANCE
TREACHERY
IN VAIN
THE MIRACLE
KEEP INNOCENCY
THE PHANTOM
VOICES
THULE
THE BIRTHNIGHT: TO F.
THE 
DEATH-DREAM
"WHERE IS THY VICTORY?"
FOREBODING
VAIN FINDING
NAPOLEON
ENGLAND
TRUCE
EVENING
NIGHT
THE UNIVERSE
GLORIA 
MUNDI
IDLENESS
GOLIATH 
CHARACTERS FROM SHAKESPEARE--
FALSTAFF
MACBETH
BANQUO
MERCUTIO
JULIET'S NURSE
IAGO
IMOGEN
POLONIUS
OPHELIA
HAMLET 
SONNETS--
THE HAPPY ENCOUNTER
APRIL
SEA-MAGIC
THE MARKET-PLACE
ANATOMY
EVEN 
IN THE GRAVE
BRIGHT LIFE
HUMANITY
VIRTUE 
MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD--
REVERIE
THE 
MASSACRE
ECHO
FEAR
THE MERMAIDS
MYSELF
AUTUMN
WINTER
ENVOI: TO MY MOTHER 
THE LISTENERS: 1914 
THE THREE CHERRY TREES
OLD SUSAN
OLD BEN
MISS LOO
THE TAILOR
MARTHA
THE SLEEPER
THE KEYS OF MORNING
RACHEL
ALONE
THE BELLS
THE SCARECROW
NOD
THE BINDWEED
WINTER
THERE BLOOMS NO BUD IN MAY
NOON AND NIGHT 
FLOWER
ESTRANGED
THE TIRED CUPID
DREAMS
FAITHLESS
THE SHADE
BE ANGRY NOW NO MORE
EXILE
WHERE?
MUSIC UNHEARD
ALL THAT'S PAST
WHEN THE ROSE IS FADED
SLEEP
THE STRANGER
NEVER MORE SAILOR
ARABIA
THE MOUNTAINS
QUEEN DJENIRA
NEVER-TO-BE
THE DARK CHÂTEAU
THE DWELLING-PLACE
THE LISTENERS
TIME PASSES
BEWARE!
THE JOURNEY
HAUNTED
SILENCE
WINTER DUSK
THE GHOST
AN EPITAPH
"THE 
HAWTHORN HATH A DEATHLY SMELL" 
MOTLEY: 1918 
THE LITTLE SALAMANDER
THE LINNET
THE SUNKEN 
GARDEN
THE RIDDLERS
MOONLIGHT
THE BLIND 
BOY
THE QUARRY
MRS. GRUNDY
THE TRYST
ALONE
THE EMPTY HOUSE
MISTRESS FELL
THE 
GHOST
THE STRANGER
BETRAYAL
THE CAGE
THE 
REVENANT
MUSIC
THE REMONSTRANCE
NOCTURNE
THE EXILE
THE UNCHANGING
INVOCATION
EYES
LIFE
THE DISGUISE
VAIN QUESTIONING
VIGIL
THE OLD MEN
THE DREAMER
MOTLEY
THE 
MARIONETTES
TO E.T.: 1917
APRIL MOON
THE 
FOOL'S SONG
CLEAR EYES
DUST TO DUST
THE 
THREE STRANGERS
ALEXANDER
THE REAWAKENING
THE VACANT DAY
THE FLIGHT
FOR ALL THE GRIEF
THE SCRIBE
FARE WELL 
 
POEMS: 1906 
TO HENRY NEWBOLT 
 
LYRICAL POEMS
THEY TOLD ME 
They told me Pan was dead, but I
Oft marvelled who it was that sang
Down 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 antique bitterness. 
SORCERY 
"What voice is that I hear
Crying across the pool?"
"It is the voice 
of Pan you hear,
Crying his sorceries shrill and clear,
In the twilight 
dim and cool." 
"What song is it he sings,
Echoing from afar;
While the sweet 
swallow bends her wings,
Filling the air with twitterings,
Beneath 
the brightening star?" 
The woodman answered me,
His faggot on his back:--
"Seek not the 
face of Pan to see;
Flee from his clear note summoning thee
To 
darkness deep and black!" 
"He dwells in thickest shade,
Piping his notes forlorn
Of sorrow 
never to be allayed;
Turn from his coverts sad
Of twilight unto 
morn!" 
The woodman passed away
Along the forest path;
His ax shone 
keen and grey
In the last beams of day:
And all was still as death:-- 
Only Pan singing sweet
Out of Earth's fragrant shade;
I dreamed his
eyes to meet,
And found but shadow laid
Before my tired feet. 
Comes no more dawn to me,
Nor bird of open skies.
Only his 
woods' deep gloom I see
Till, at the end of all, shall rise,
Afar and 
tranquilly,
Death's stretching sea. 
THE CHILDREN OF STARE 
Winter is fallen early
On the house of Stare;
Birds in reverberating 
flocks
Haunt its ancestral box;
Bright are the plenteous berries
In 
clusters in the air. 
Still is the fountain's music,
The dark pool icy still,
Whereupon a 
small and sanguine sun
Floats in a mirror on,
Into a West of 
crimson,
From a South of daffodil. 
'Tis strange to see young children
In such a wintry house;
Like 
rabbits' on the frozen snow
Their tell-tale footprints go;
Their 
laughter rings like timbrels
'Neath evening ominous: 
Their small and heightened faces
Like wine-red winter buds;
Their 
frolic bodies gentle as
Flakes in the air that pass,
Frail as the 
twirling petal
From the briar of the woods. 
Above them silence lours,
Still as an arctic sea;
Light fails; night 
falls; the wintry moon
Glitters; the crocus soon
Will ope grey and 
distracted
On earth's austerity: 
Thick mystery, wild peril,
Law like an iron rod:--
Yet sport they on 
in Spring's attire,
Each with his tiny fire
Blown to a core of ardour
By the awful breath of God. 
AGE 
This ugly old crone--
Every beauty she had
When a maid, when a
maid.
Her beautiful eyes,
Too youthful, too wise,
Seemed ever to 
come
To so lightless a home,
Cold and dull as a stone.
And her 
cheeks--who would guess
Cheeks cadaverous as this
Once with 
colours were gay
As the flower on its spray?
Who would ever 
believe
Aught could bring one to grieve
So much as to make
Lips 
bent for love's sake
So thin and so grey?
O Youth, come away!
As she asks in her lone,
This old, desolate crone.
She loves us no 
more;
She is too old to care
For the charms that of yore
Made her 
body so fair.
Past repining, past care,
She lives but to bear
One or 
two fleeting years
Earth's indifference: her tears
Have lost now their 
heat;
Her hands and her feet
Now shake but to be
Shed as leaves 
from a tree;
And her poor heart beats on
Like a sea--the storm gone. 
THE GLIMPSE 
Art thou asleep?    
    
		
	
	
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