Quote

Very old are the woods And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are-- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.

Walter de La Mare

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Walter de La Mare
Age: 83 †
Born: 1873
Born: April 25
Died: 1956
Died: June 22
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Writer
Charlton
London
Walter Ramal
Walter John de la Mare
Rose
Buds
Wind
Bud
Century
Winds
Break
Centuries
Beauty
March
Back
Wild
Men
Woods
Wake
Boughs

More quotes by Walter de La Mare

Image
What lovely things Thy hand hath made.
Walter de La Mare
Image
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 front - in our ancestors, back and back until.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer's day.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon.
Walter de La Mare
Image
It was a pity thoughts always ran the easiest way, like water in old ditches.
Walter de La Mare
Image
An hour's terror is better than a lifetime of timidity.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.
Walter de La Mare
Image
So, blind to Someone I must be.
Walter de La Mare
Image
What a haunting, inescapable riddle life was.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Without imagination of the one kind or of the other, mortal existence is indeed a dreary and prosaic business... Illumined by the imagination, our life, whatever its defeats - is a never-ending unforeseen strangeness and adventure and mystery.
Walter de La Mare
Image
And some win peace who spend The skill of words to sweeten despair Of finding consolation where Life has but one dark end.
Walter de La Mare
Image
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
Image
But beauty vanishes beauty passes However rare rare it be And when I crumble, who will remember This lady of the West Country?
Walter de La Mare
Image
God has mercifully ordered that the human brain works slowly first the blow, hours afterwards the bruise.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Poor tired Tim! It's sad for him He lags the long bright morning through, Ever so tired of nothing to do.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Do diddle di do, Poor Jim Jay Got stuck fast In Yesterday.
Walter de La Mare
Image
As soon as they're out of your sight, you are out of their mind.
Walter de La Mare
Image
The only catalogue of this world's goods that really counts is that which we keep in the silence of the mind.
Walter de La Mare
Image
Oh, pity the poor glutton Whose troubles all begin In struggling on and on to turn What's out into what's in.
Walter de La Mare
Image
He got out of bed and peeped through the blinds. To the east and opposite to him gardens and an apple-orchard lay, and there in strange liquid tranquility hung the morning star, and rose, rilling into the dusk of night the first grey of dawn. The street beneath its autumn leaves was vacant, charmed, deserted.
Walter de La Mare