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Walter de la Mare


The sky was like a waterdrop

In shadow of a thorn,

Clear, tranquil, beautiful,


Lightning along its margin ran;

A rumour of the sea

Rose in profundity and sank

Into infinity.

Lofty and few the elms, the stars

In the vast boughs most bright;

I stood a dreamer in a dream

In the unstirring night.

Not wonder, worship, not even peace

Seemed in my heart to be:

Only the memory of one,

Of all most dead to me.