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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE UNFINISHED DREAM, by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: Rare-sweet the air in that unimagined country
Last Line: Strange to me: strange. . . .
Alternate Author Name(s): Ramal, Walter; De La Mare, Walter
First Line: Rare-sweet the air in that unimagined country
Last Line: Strange to me: strange. . . .
Alternate Author Name(s): Ramal, Walter; De La Mare, Walter
Rare-sweet the air in that unimagined country --
My spirit had wandered far
From its weary body close-enwrapt in slumber
Where its home and earth-friends are;
A milk-like air -- and of light all abundance;
And there a river clear
Painting the scene like a picture on its bosom,
Green foliage drifting near.
No sign of life I saw, as I pressed onward,
Fish, nor beast, nor bird,
Till I came to a hill clothed in flowers to its summit,
Then shrill small voices I heard.
And I saw from concealment a company of elf-folk
With faces strangely fair,
Talking their unearthly scattered talk together,
A bind of green-grasses in their hair,
Marvellously gentle, feater far than children,
In gesture, mien and speech,
Hastening onward in translucent shafts of sunshine
And gossiping each with each.
Straw-light their locks, on neck and shoulder falling,
Faint of almond the silks they wore,
Spun not of worm, but as if inwoven of moonbeams
And foam on rock-bound shore;
Like lank-legged grasshoppers in June-tide meadows,
Amalillios of the day,
Hungrily gazed upon by me -- a stranger,
In unknown regions astray.
Yet, happy beyond words, I marked their sunlit faces,
Stealing soft enchantment from their eyes,
Tears in my own confusing their small image,
Hearkening their bead-like cries.
They passed me, unseeing, a waft of flocking linnets;
Sadly I fared on my way;
And came in my dream to a dreamlike habitation,
Close-shut, festooned, and grey.
Pausing, I gazed at the porch dust-still, vine-wreathed,
Worn on the stone steps thereto,
Mute hung its bell, whence a stony head looked downward,
Grey 'gainst the sky's pale-blue --
Strange to me: strange. . . .
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AN EPITAPH by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE
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BUNCHES OF GRAPES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE
ECHO by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE
ENGLAND (2) by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE
FARE WELL by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE
FIVE EYES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE
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