Cake And Sack

Old King Caraway
    Supped on cake,
And a cup of sack
    His thirst to slake;
Bird in arras
    And hound in hall
Watched very softly
    Or not at all;
Fire in the middle,
    Stone all round
Changed not, heeded not,
    Made no sound;
All by himself
    At the Table High
He'd nibble and sip
    While his dreams slipped by;
And when he had finished,
    He'd nod and say,
'Cake and sack
    For King Caraway!'

Walter De La Mare

Walter De La Mare was an English poet, short story writer, and novelist, best remembered for his works for children and his poem "The Listeners". Born in 1873 in Charlton, Kent, De La Mare's unique blend of haunting, dreamlike imagery and masterful command of language earned him a lasting place in English literature. He was awarded the Order of Merit in 1953, and his works continue to be celebrated for their ethereal and evocative quality.

Walter De La Mare

The Scarecrow

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

The Changeling

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

The Little Green Orchard

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

The Pigs And The Charcoal - Burner

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The White Knight's Song

"Haddock's Eyes" or "The Aged Aged Man" or
"Ways and Means" or "A-Sitting On A Gate"

I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged, aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said.
"And how is it you live?"
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.

He said "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat;
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread,
A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That it could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man...

Lewis Carroll

Cumberland

The old, old King of Cumberland
    Awoke with bristling beard -
Crouched listening in the darkness
    To a sound that he had heard.

He leaned upon his foursquare bed,
    His thumb beneath his chin;
Hearkening after that which had stirred
    The dream that he was in.

The old, old King of Cumberland
    Muttered, "Twas not the sea,
Gushing upon Shlievlisskin rocks,
    That wakened me.

"Thunder from midmost night it was not;
    For yonder at the bars
Burn to their summer setting her
    Clear constellated stars."

The old, old King of Cumberland
    Mused yet, "Rats ever did
Rove from their holes, and clink my spurs,
    And gnaw my coverlid.

"Oft hath a little passing breeze
    Along this valance stirr...

Walter De La Mare

The Knight's Song

I'll tell thee everything I can:
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.

'Who are you, aged man?' I said.
'And how is it you live?'
And his answer trickled through my head,
Like water through a sieve.
He said, 'I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men,' he said,
'Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread,
A trifle, if you please.'
But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.

So having no reply to give
To what the old man said, I cried
'Come, tell me how you live!'
And thumped him on the head.
His ...

Lewis Carroll

The Aged Aged Man

I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said,
"And how is it you live?"
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.

He said, "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread,
A trifle; if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!"
And thumped him on the head.

His...

Lewis Carroll

Sam's Three Wishes; Or Life's Little Whirligig

"I'm thinking and thinking," said old Sam Shore,
"'Twere somebody knocking I heard at the door."

From the clock popped the cuckoo and cuckooed out eight,
As there in his chair he wondering sate ...
"There's no one I knows on would come so late,
A-clicking the latch of an empty house
With nobbut inside 'un but me and a mouse....
Maybe a-waking in sleep I be,
And 'twere out of a dream came that tapping to me."
At length he cautiously rose, and went,
And with thumb upon latch awhile listening bent,
Then slowly drew open the door. And behold!
There stood a Fairy! - all green and gold,
Mantled up warm against dark and cold,
And smiling up into his candle shine,
Lips like wax, and cheeks like wine,
As saucy and winsome a thing to see
As are linden ...

Walter De La Mare

Alice And The White Knight

Alice was walking beside the White Knight in Looking Glass Land.

"You are sad." the Knight said in an anxious tone: "let me sing you a song to comfort you."

"Is it very long?" Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of poetry that day.

"It's long." said the Knight, "but it's very, very beautiful. Everybody that hears me sing it,
either it brings tears to their eyes, or else,"

"Or else what?" said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.

"Or else it doesn't, you know. The name of the song is called 'Haddocks' Eyes.'"

"Oh, that's the name of the song, is it?" Alice said, trying to feel interested.

"No, you don't understand," the Knight said, looking a little vexed. "That's what the name
is called. The name really is 'The Aged, Aged Man.'"

Lewis Carroll