 THE SUNCAN GARDEN AND OTHER POMES by Walter de la Mer Read for LibriVox.org by Bruce Gachuck THE LITTLE SALAMANDER TO MARGO When I go free I think it will be a night of stars and snow and the wildfires of frost shall light my footsteps as I go. Nobody, nobody will be there with groping touch or sight to see me in my bush of hair dance burning through the night. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. THE SUNCAN GARDEN by Walter de la Mer Read for LibriVox.org Speak not, whisper not. Here bloweth time and bergamot Softly, on the evening hour, secret herbs their spices shower dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh, lean-stalked purple lavender hides within her bosom too all her sorrows bitter rue. Breathe not, trespass not, of this green and darkling spot latticed from the moon's beams perchance a distant dreamer dreams perchance upon its darkening air the unseen ghosts of children fair faintly swinging sway and sweep like lovely sea flowers in its deep while unmoved to watch and ward. Minutes gloomed and daisied sward stands with bowed and dewy head that one little leaden lad. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. THE REDLERS by Walter de la Mer Read for LibriVox.org Thou solitary the blackbird cried from the happy rain, linnet and black cap would lark thrush purged all upon a sweet briar bush have come at cold of midnight tide to ask thee why and when griefs moat thy heart so thou dost sing in solemn hush of evening so sorrowfully lovelorn thing, nay, nay, not sing but rave, but wail most melancholic nightingale do not the do's of darkness steep all pinings of the day in sleep why then when rocked in starry nest we mutely couch secure at rest doth thy lone heart delight to make music for sorrow's sake. A moon was there so still her beam it seemed the whole world lay a dream laud by the watery sea and from her leafy night-hung nook upon this stranger soft did look the nightingale side he to strange my friend the kingfisher but yestermoor and conjured me here out of his green and gold to say why thou in splendor of the noon wearest of color but golden shone and else dost the array in a most somber suit of black surely he sighed some load of grief past all our thinking and belief must weigh upon his back. Do then in turn tell me if joy thy heart as well as voice employ why dost thou now most sable shine in plumage woefuler far than mine thy silence is a sadder thing than any dirge I sing thus then these two small birds perched there breathed a strange riddle both did share yet neither could expound and we who sing but as we can in the small knowledge of a man have we an answer found nay some are happy whose delight is hid even from themselves from sight and some win peace who spend the skill of words to sweeten despair of finding consolation where life has but one dark end who in rapt solitude tell or a tale as lovely as for lore into the midnight air and a poem this recording is in the public domain. Mrs. Grundy by Walter de la Mare read for LibriVox.org step very softly sweet quiet foot stumble not whisper not smile not by this dark ivy stoop cheek and brow still even thy heart what seaest thou high coft broad browed aged suave yet grim a large flat face eyes keenly dim staring at nothing that's me and yet with a hate one could never know never forget this is my world my garden my home hither my father bad mother to come and bear me out of the dark into light and happy I was in her tender sight and then thou frail flower she died and went forgetting my pitiless banishment and that old woman and aunt she said came hither lodged fattened and made her bed oh yes thou most blessed from Monday to Sunday has lived on me prayed on me Mrs. Grundy called me dear nephew on each of those chairs has gloated in righteousness heard my prayers why ditched thou dare the thorns of the grove timidest trespasser huntress of love now thou has peeped and now dust know what kind of creature is thine for foe not that she'll tear out thy innocent eyes poison thy mouth with devil trees watch thou wait though soon will begin the guile of a voice hark come in come in and a poem this recording is in the public domain The Dark House by Walter de la Mer read for LibriVox.org see this house how dark it is beneath its vast bowed trees not one trembling leaflet cries to that watcher in the skies remove remove thy searching gaze innocent of heaven's ways brood not moon so wildly bright on secrets hidden from sight secrets sighs the night wind vacancy is all I find every keyhole I have made way lasubons faint and sad no voice ever answers me only vacancy once once the cricket shrills and far and near the quiet fills with its tiny voice and then hush falls again mute shadows creeping slow mark how the hours go every stone is mouldering slow and the least winds that blow some minutest atom shake some fretting ruin make in roof and walls how black it is beneath these thick bowed trees and a poem this recording is in the public domain mistress fell by Walter de la Mer read for LibriVox.org whom seek you here sweet mistress fell one who loved me passing well dark as I wild his face stranger if in this lonely place by such and one then pretty say I am come here today many his like mistress fell I did not look so cannot tell only this I surely know when his voice called me I must go touched me his fingers and my heart lept at the sweet pain smart why did he leave you mistress fell magic laid its dreary spell stranger he was fast asleep into his dream I tried to creep called his name soft was my cry he answered not one sigh the flower and the thorn are here fall of the night dew cold and clear out of her bower the bird replies mocking the dark with ecstasy's see how the earth's green grass doth grow praising what sleeps below thus have they told me and I come as flies the wounded wild bird home not tears I give but all that he clasped in his arms sweet charity all that he loved to him I bring for a close whispering and a poem this recording is in the public domain the stranger by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org in the woods as I did walk dappled with the moon's beam I did with a stranger talk and his name was dream spirit his heel dark his cloak shady wide his bonnets brim his horse beneath a silvery oak grazed as I talked with him softly his breast brooch burned and Sean hill and deep were in his eyes one of his hands held mine and one the fruit that makes men wise wonderfully strange was earth to see flowers white as milk did gleam spread to heaven the Assyrian tree over my head with dream dews were still betwixt us twain stars a trembling beauty shed yet not a whisper comes again of the words he said and a poem this recording is in the public domain the flight by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org how do the days press on and lay their fallen locks at evening down while as the stars in darkness play and moonbeams weave a crown a crown of flower like light in heaven where in the hollow arch of space mourns mistress dreams and the pleads seven stand watch about her place stand watch old days no number keep of ours when this dark clay is blind when the world's clocks are dumb in sleep tis then I seek my kind and a poem this recording is in the public domain the remonstrance by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org I was at peace until you came and set a careless mind aflame I lived in quiet cold content all longing in safe banishment until your ghostly lips and eyes made wisdom unwise not was in me to tempt your feet to seek a lodging quite forgot lay the sweet solitude we too in childhood used to wonder through times cold had closed my heart about and shot you out well and what then oh vision grave take all the little all I have strip me of what in voiceless thought life's kept of life unhoped unsought reverie and dream that memory must hide deep in dust this only I say though called and bear the haunted house you have chosen to share still neath its walls the moonbeam goes and trembles on the untended rose still or its broken roof tree rise the starry arches of the skies and neath your lightest word shall be the thunder of an ebbing sea and of poem this recording is in the public domain the exile by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org I am that Adam who with snake for guest hid anguished eyes upon Eve's piteous breast I am that Adam who with broken wings fled from the seraph's brazen trumpetings betrayed and fugitive I still must roam a world where sin and beauty whisper of home all from wide circuit shall at length I see pure daybreak lighten again on Eden's tree loosed from remorse and hope and love's distress enrobe me again in my lost nakedness no more with wordless grief a loved one grieve but to Heaven's nothingness re-welcome Eve and of poem this recording is in the public domain eyes by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org all strange devices that alone divide the seer from the scene the very highway of earth's pomp and pride that lies between the traveller and the cheating sweet delight of where he longs to be but which bound hand and foot he close on night can only see and of poem this recording is in the public domain the trist by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org why in my heart oh grief dust thou in beauty by dead is my well content and buried deep my pride cold are their stones beloved to hand and side the shadows of even are gone shot are the day's clear flowers now have her birds left mute their singing bowers lone shall we be we twain in the night hours thou with thy cheek on mine and dark hair loosed shall see take the far stars for fruit the Cyprus tree and in the use black shall the moon be we will tell no old tales nor heed if in wandering air die a lost song of love or the ones fair still as well water be the thoughts we share and while the ghosts keep trist from chill sepulchres dreamless our gaze shall sleep and sealed our ears heart unto heart will speak without tears oh thy veiled lovely face joys strange disguise shall be the last to fade from these wrapped eyes air the first dart of daybreak pierce the skies and of poem this recording is in the public domain the old man by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org hold and alone sit we caged little red men lost to earth's listen and see thoughts where for and when only far memories stray of a past once lovely but now wasted and faded away like green leaves from the bow vast brews the silence of night the ruinous moon lifts on our faces her light when saw dreaming is gone we speak not trembles each head in their sockets our eyes are still desire as cold as the dead without wonder or will and one with a land horn draws near at clash with the moon in our eyes where art thou he asks I am here one by one we arise and none lifts a hand to withhold a friend from the touch of that foe heart cries unto heart thou art old yet reluctant we go and a poem this recording is in the public domain the fools song by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org never know never listen too long to the chattering wind in the shadows the night bird song to sad in sooth to lie under the grass but none too glad some to wake and grow cold where life shadows pass dumb the old tall woman squats and for every green copper battered and worn dolls out never's and knots I know a blind man too who with a sharp ear listens and listens the whole world through oh sit we snug to our feast with flatter and finger and spoon and good vettles at least and a poem this recording is in the public domain the dreamer by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org Oh thou who giving helm and sword gaves to the rusting rain and starry dark salt tender dues to blunt and stain out of the battle I am sped unharmed yet stricken sore a living shape mid whispering shades on Lethe's shore no trophy in my hangs I bring to this sad sighing stream the names and the trumps and cries where but a dream a dream traitor to life of life betrayed oh of thy mercy deep a dream my all the all I ask is sleep and a poem this recording is in the public domain motley by Walter Dottemaire read for LibriVox.org come death I'd have a word with thee and thou for innocence see and love a lad with broken wing and pity to the fool shall sing to you as fools will sing I music has small sense and a tunes soon told and earth is old and my poor wits are dims yet have I secrets dark my dear to breathe you all come near and lest some hideous listener tells I'll ring my bells they're all at war yes yes their bodies go neath burning sun and I see star to chanted songs of woe dragging cold cannon through a mire of rain and blood and spouting fire the new moon glinting hard on eyes wide with insanities hush I use words I hardly know the meaning of and the mute birds are glancing at love from out their shade of leaf and flower trembling at treacheries which even in noon day coward heed not what I said of frenzied hosts of men more fools than I on envy hatred fed who kill and die spake I not plainly then yet pity whispered why thou silly thing off to the daisies go mine was not news for child to know and death no ears hath he had sucked where creep eyeless worms in hush of sleep yet when he smiles the hand he draws a thwart his grinning jaws faintly the thin bones rattle and there there park and how my bells in the air drive away care nay but a dream I had of a world all mad not simple happy mad like me who am mad like an empty scene of water and willow tree where the wind hath been but that foul Satan mad who wroughts in his own head and counts the dead not honest one and two but for the ghosts they were brave faithful true when head in air in earth's clear green and blue heaven they did share with beauty who bad them there there now death goes may have I've wearied him I and the light doth dim and asleep's the rose and tired innocence in dreams is hence come love my lad nodding that drowsy head his time thy prayers were said and home this recording is in the public domain to E. T. nineteen seventeen by water dot a mare read for LibriVox dot org you sleep too well too far away for sorrowing word to soothe or wound your very quiet seems to say how longed for a peace you have found else had not death so lured you on you would have grieved twist joy and fear to know how my small loving son had wept for you my dear and a poem this recording is in the public domain Alexander by water dot a mare read for LibriVox dot org it was the great Alexander capped with a golden helm sat in the ages in his floating ship in a dead calm voices of seamades singing wondered across the deep the sailors laboring on their oars rode as in sleep all the high pump of Asia charmed by that siren lay out of their weary and dreaming minds faded away like a bold boy say their captain his glamour withered and gone in the souls of his brooding mariners while the song pined on time like a falling dew life like the scene of a dream laid between slumber and slumber only did seem oh Alexander then in all us mortals to wax thou not bold too bold on the wave dark blue come the calm infinite night who then will hear ought save the singing of the seamades clear end of poem this recording is in the public domain for all the grief by water dot a mare read for LibriVox dot org for all the grief I have given with words may now a few clear flowers blow in the dust and the heat and the silence of birds where the lonely go for the thing said that heart asked of me be a dark cool water calling calling to the foot sore benighted solitary when the shadows are falling oh be beauty for all my blindness a moon in the air where the weary wind and dues burdened with loving kindness in the dark of the end and a poem this recording is in the public domain farewell by Walter de la mare read for LibriVox dot org when I lie where shades of darkness shall no more assail mine eyes nor the rain make lamentation when the wind sighs how will fare the world whose wonder was the very proof of me memory fades must the remembered perishing be oh when this my dust surrenders hand foot lip to dust again may these loved and loving faces please other men may the rusting harvest hedgerow still the travelers joy entwine and as happy children gather posies once mine look thy last on all things lovely every hour let no night seal thy sense in deathly slumber till to delight thou have paid thy utmost blessing since that all things thou would praise beauty took from those who loved them in other days and a poem this recording is in the public domain clear eyes by Walter de la mare read for LibriVox dot org clear eyes do dim at last and cheeks outlive their rows time heedless of the past no loving kindness knows chill unto mortal lip still see flows griefs to but brief while stay and sorrow being or its salt tears shed away wounded the heart no more stealthily leave those waters that solemn sure ah then sweet face burn on while yet quick memory lives and sorrow air thou art gone know that my heart forgives air yet grown cold in peace it loves not nor grieves and a poem this recording is in the public domain music by Walter de la mare read for LibriVox dot org when music sounds gone is the earth I know and all her lovely things even lovelier grow her flowers in vision flame her forest trees lift burdened branches still with ecstasy when music sounds out of her rise niads whose beauty dims my waking eyes wrapped in strange dream burns each enchanted face with solemn echoing stirs their dwelling place when music sounds all that I was I am air to this haunt of brooding dust I came while from time's woods break into distance song the swift winged hours as I hasten along and a poem this recording is in the public domain in a churchyard by Walter de la mare read for LibriVox dot org as children bidden to go to bed puff out their candles light since that the natural dark is best for them to take their flight into the realm of sleep so we God's bidding did obey not without fear our tired eyes shot and wait and wait the day and a poem this recording is in the public domain two houses by Walter de la mare read for LibriVox dot org in the strange city of life two houses I know well one where in silence a garden hath and one where dark doth dwell roof unto roof they stand shadowing the where vanity flaunts her gilded boots in the noontide glare and heat green graped upon their walls the ancient hoary vine hath clustered their carbon likeness stones with tendril serpentine and ever and anon dazed in that clamorous throng I thirst for the soundless fount that stills those orchards mute of song knock knock nor knock in vain heart all thy secrets tell where silence a fast sealed garden hath where dark doth dwell and a poem this recording is in the public domain and of the sunken garden and other poems by Walter de la mare