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Poem: 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 sleeps 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: Clown in the Moon

    - Dylan Thomas My tears are like the quiet drift Of petals from some magic rose; And all my grief flows from the rift Of unremembered skies and…

  • Poem: O Christ, my God

    - Christina Georgina Rossetti O Christ, my God, who seest the unseen, O Christ, my God, who knowest the unknown, Thy mighty blood was poured…

  • Poem: Concord Hymn

    - Ralph Waldo Emerson Sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument, July 4, 1837 By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to…