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Poem: The Song of the Mad Prince

Who said, "Peacock Pie?"
The old king to the sparrow:
Who said, "Crops are ripe"?
Rust to the harrow:
Who said, "Where sleep she now?
Where rests she now her head,
Bathed in eve's loveliness?"--
That's what I said.

Who said, "Ay, mum's the word"?
Sexton to willow:
Who said, "Green dusk for dreams,
Moss for a pillow"?
Who said, "All Time's delight
Hath she for narrow bed;
Life's troubled bubble broken"?--
That's what I said.

- Walter de la Mare
Indexing:

Posts from This Journal by “poetry” Tag

  • Poem: Seeds

    - Walter de la Mare The seeds I sowed - For week unseen - Have pushed up pygmy Shoots of green; So frail you'd think The tiniest stone Would…

  • Poem: Cats and Dogs

    - W.H. Auden DOG The single creature leads a partial life, Man by his mind, and by his nose the hound; He needs the deep emotions I can give, I…

  • Poem: The Oven Bird

    - Robert Frost There is a singer everyone has heard, Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird, Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again. He says…