Poem of the Month: October
This month's poem is a suggestion by a good friend of mine here, rather a foreshadowing of All Hallow's Eve at the end of the month. The poem rather reminds me of Aragorn's calling of the Dead Army in the Lord of the Rings!
Since midterms are coming up this week, I won't be posting again until break, when I hope to post on Spirit Week and homecoming!
THE LISTENERS
by Walter de la Mare
Since midterms are coming up this week, I won't be posting again until break, when I hope to post on Spirit Week and homecoming!
THE LISTENERS
by Walter de la Mare
- 'IS there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
- Knocking on the moonlit door;
- And his horse in the silence champ'd the grasses
- Of the forest's ferny floor:
- And a bird flew up out of the turret,
- Above the Traveller's head:
- And he smote upon the door again a second time;
- 'Is there anybody there?' he said.
- But no one descended to the Traveller;
- No head from the leaf-fringed sill
- Lean'd over and look'd into his grey eyes,
- Where he stood perplex'd and still.
- But only a host of phantom listeners
- That dwelt in the lone house then
- Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
- To that voice from the world of men:
- Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
- That goes down to the empty hall,
- Hearkening in an air stirr'd and shaken
- By the lonely Traveller's call.
- And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
- Their stillness answering his cry,
- While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
- 'Neath the starr'd and leafy sky;
- For he suddenly smote on the door, even
- Louder, and lifted his head:--
- 'Tell them I came, and no one answer'd,
- That I kept my word,' he said.
- Never the least stir made the listeners,
- Though every word he spake
- Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
- From the one man left awake:
- Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
- And the sound of iron on stone,
- And how the silence surged softly backward,
- When the plunging hoofs were gone.
I like this. It sounds familiar for some reason . . .
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