POEMS OLD AND NEW

Dark in his pools clear visions lurk,
And rosy, as with morning buds,
Along his dales of broom and birk
Dreams haunt his solitary woods,

I met at eve the Prince of Sleep,
His was a still and lovely face,
He wandered through a valley steep,
Lovely in a lonely place.

WALTER DE LA MARE

THE DONKEY
WHEN fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn, 10
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born ;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will,
Starve, scourge, deride me : I am dumb,
I keep my secret still. 20
Fools ! For I also had my hour ;
One far fierce hour and sweet :
There was a shout about my ears.
And palms before my feet.
G. K. CHESTERTON
148