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When I lie where shades of darkness Shall no more assail mine eyes.

Walter de La Mare

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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
Shade
Mines
Mine
Darkness
Shall
Eyes
Lying
Assail
Eye
Shades

More quotes by Walter de La Mare

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As long as I live I shall always be My Self - and no other, Just me.
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Too late for fruit, too soon for flowers.
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Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour
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The sandy cat by the Farmer's chair Mews at his knee for dainty fare Old Rover in his moss-greened house Mumbles a bone, and barks at a mouse. In the dewy fields the cattle lie Chewing the cud 'neath a fading sky Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer's day.
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Oh, pity the poor glutton Whose troubles all begin In struggling on and on to turn What's out into what's in.
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A lost but happy dream may shed its light upon our waking hours, and the whole day may be infected with the gloom of a dreary or sorrowful one yet of neither may we be able to recover a trace.
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What is the world, O soldiers? It is I, I, this incessant snow, This northern sky.
Walter de La Mare
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All but blind In his chambered hole Gropes for worms The four-clawed Mole.
Walter de La Mare
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The only catalogue of this world's goods that really counts is that which we keep in the silence of the mind.
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Now that cleverness was the fashion most people were clever - even perfect fools and cleverness after all was often only a bore: all head and no body
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And some win peace who spend The skill of words to sweeten despair Of finding consolation where Life has but one dark end.
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For beauty with sorrow Is a burden hard to be borne: The evening light on the foam, and the swans, there That music, remote, forlorn.
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As soon as they're out of your sight, you are out of their mind.
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God has mercifully ordered that the human brain works slowly first the blow, hours afterwards the bruise.
Walter de La Mare
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What a haunting, inescapable riddle life was.
Walter de La Mare
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All day long the door of the sub-conscious remains just ajar we slip through to the other side, and return again, as easily and secretly as a cat.
Walter de La Mare
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Do diddle di do, Poor Jim Jay Got stuck fast In Yesterday.
Walter de La Mare
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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
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Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer's day.
Walter de La Mare
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A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws and silver eye And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds in a silver stream.
Walter de La Mare