Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon.
Too late for fruit, too soon for flowers. - Walter De La Mare
Too late for fruit, too soon for flowers.
- Walter De La Mare
What lovely things Thy hand hath made. - Walter De La Mare
What lovely things Thy hand hath made.
Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon. - Walter De La Mare
An hour's terror is better than a lifetime of timidity. - Walter De La Mare
An hour's terror is better than a lifetime of timidity.
What a haunting, inescapable riddle life was. - Walter De La Mare
What a haunting, inescapable riddle life was.
Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour - Walter De La Mare
Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour
Once a man strays out of the common herd, he's more likely to meet wolves in the thickets than angels. - Walter De La Mare
Once a man strays out of the common herd, he's more likely to meet wolves in the thickets than angels.
Without imagination of the one kind or of the other, mortal existence is indeed a dreary and prosaic business... Illumined by the imagination, our li… - Walter De La Mare
Without imagination of the one kind or of the other, mortal existence is indeed a dreary and prosaic business... Illumined by the imagination, our li…
After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts - like a Chinese nest of boxes - oaks that were acorns that were oaks. Death lies behind us, not in f… - Walter De La Mare
After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts - like a Chinese nest of boxes - oaks that were acorns that were oaks. Death lies behind us, not in f…
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