Collected poems, 1901-1918/Beware!

by Walter de la Mare

BEWARE!

AN ominous bird sang from its branch,
"Beware, O Wanderer!
Night 'mid her flowers of glamourie spilled
Draws swiftly near:

"Night with her darkened caravans,
Piled deep with silver and myrrh,
Draws from the portals of the East,
O Wanderer near."

Night who walks plumed through the fields
Of stars that strangely stir —
Smitten to fire by the sandals of him
Who walks with her."