Its a very odd thing As odd as can be That whatever Miss T. eats Turns into Miss T. Porridge and apples, Mince, muffins and mutton, Jam, junket, jumbles Not a rap, not a button It matters the moment Theyre out of her plate, Though shared by Miss Butcher And sour Mr. Bate, Tiny and cheerful, And neat as can be, Whatever Miss T. eats Turns into Miss T.
When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, And all her lovelier things even lovelier grow Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies. When music sounds, out of the water rise Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes, Rapt in strange dream burns each enchanted face, With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place. When music sounds, all that I was I am Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came And from Time's woods break into distant song The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along.
More Walter John de La Mare Quotations (Based on Topics)
Faces - Imagination & Visualization - Joy & Excitement - Water - View All Walter John de La Mare Quotations
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