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Walter de la Mare

Will Ever?

Will he ever be weary of wandering,

The flaming sun?

Ever weary of waning in lovelight,

The white still moon?

Will ever a shepherd come

With a crook of simple gold,

And lead all the little stars

Like lambs to the fold?

Will ever the Wanderer sail

From over the sea,

Up the river of water,

To the stones to me?

Will he take us all into his ship,

Dreaming, and waft us far,

To where in the clouds of the West,

The Islands are?