On Reading de la Mare
He is the poct of all things lost, The weaver of dreams come nearly true, ~ And he sings his songs.to the hidden host — More than he sings them to me or you.’*' .~ -But I take his songs and I read them deep, When Night comes down on a weary wing, *.And Sleep, drawn nigh with an hundred sheep Holds them stilled at their pasturing. © + | And I read and inuse till the feeling comes ~ ~ Of a changed state; till the murmuring Of Her dear heart's throb in the silence:drums In the dirge of the passionate suffering. Ah, Beauty! Though Time and the Worth of Things Shall slay each other in bloody strife, . , Thay W711 lines on ewohere the poet sings’ 3
With the sad, low voice by the side of Life. a *~-
A.L.
G.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/RADREC19320902.2.48
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Radio Record, Volume VI, Issue 8, 2 September 1932, Unnumbered Page
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138On Reading de la Mare Radio Record, Volume VI, Issue 8, 2 September 1932, Unnumbered Page
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