Under the Silver and Home Again: Five Walter de la Mare Lyrics

1. The Old Stone House

Nothing on the grey roof, nothing on the brown,
Only a little greening where the rain drips down;
Nobody at the window, nobody at the door,
Only a little hollow which a foot once wore;
But still I tread on tiptoe, still tiptoe on I go,
Past nettles, porch, and weedy well, for oh, I know
A friendless face is peering, and a still clear eye
Peeps closely through the casement
as my step goes by.

2. The Buckle

I had a silver buckle,
I sewed it on my shoe,
And ‘neath a sprig of mistletoe
I danced the evening through!
I had a bunch of cowslips,
I hid ’em in a grot,
In case the elves should come by night
And me remember not.
I had a yellow riband,
I tied it in my hair,
That, walking in the garden,
The birds might see it there.
I had a secret laughter,
I laughed it near the wall:
Only the ivy and the wind
May tell of it at all.

3. The Ride­-by-­Nights

Up on their brooms the Witches stream,
Crooked and black in the crescent’s gleam,
One foot high, and one foot low,
Bearded, cloaked, and cowled, they go.
‘Neath Charlie’s Wane they twitter and tweet,
And away they swarm ‘neath the Dragon’s feet,
With a whoop and a flutter they swing and sway,
And surge pell­mell down the Milky Way.
Between the legs of the glittering Chair
They hover and squeak in the empty air.
Then round they swoop past the glimmering Lion
To where Sirius barks behind huge Orion;
Up, then, and over to wheel amain
Under the silver, and home again.

4. Bunches of Grapes

‘Bunches of grapes,’ says Timothy;
‘Pomegranates pink,’ says Elaine;
‘A junket of cream and a cranberry tart
For me,’ says Jane.
‘Love­in­a­mist,’ says Timothy;
‘Primroses pale,’ says Elaine;
‘A nosegay of pinks and mignonette
For me,’ says Jane.
‘Chariots of gold,’ says Timothy;
‘Silvery wings,’ says Elaine;
‘A bumpity ride in a wagon of hay
For me,’ says Jane.

5. Mistletoe

Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale­green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale­green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen—and kissed me there.

– Walter de la Mare