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Walter de la Mare - Martha
Work rating: Medium

Once, once upon a time.... 
Over and over again, 
Martha would tell us her stories, 
In the hazel glen. 

Hers were those clear gray eyes 
You watch, and the story seems 
Told by their beautifulness 
Tranquil as dreams. 

She`d sit with her two slim hands 
Clasped round her bended knees; 
While we on our elbows lolled, 
And stared at ease. 

Her voice and her narrow chin, 
Her grave small lovely head, 
Seemed half the meaning 
Of the words she said. 

"Once…Once upon a time…" 
Like a dream you dream in the night, 
Fairies and gnomes stole out 
In the leaf-green light. 

And her beauty far away 
Would fade, as her voice ran on, 
Till hazel and summer sun 
And all were gone:— 

All fordone and forgot; 
And like clouds in the height of the sky, 
Our hearts stood still in the hush 
Of an age gone by.
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