mjj (flemmings) wrote,

So there's this odd poem, that I probably found in Walter de la Mare's Come Hither, which is itself an odd book, called From the Day-book of a Forgotten Prince. That link takes you to the poem as I remember it. But someone has it archived with a bunch of Jean Starr Untermeyer's other poems, and there I find the following variant reading:
He roars out a song in a voice that is sweet--
Of grandeur that's gone, rare viands to eat,
And treasure that used to be laid at his feet.

He picks up his phone, faded, wrinkled and torn,
Though banded in ermine, moth-eaten and worn,
And held at the throat by a twisted old thorn.
I wonder how that happened?
Tags: verse

  • (no subject)

    The usual annoyances of this book list, including the 'not if you ripped my fingernails out' entries (The Road, Atlas Shrugged, Twilight) and the…

  • And behold, they were exceeding dry

    Because Pratchett must be rationed or I find myself reading nothing else and overdosing, my next reads are LeGuin's Lavinia and an Oxford Press…

  • Week 2

    Spent the day in sleep gear (I don't wear pyjamas as such) which is probably a bad idea, but once in a while won't kill me. Besides it was raining,…

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded