As I came out of Wiseman's Street,
The air was thick with driving sleet;
Crossing over Proudman's Square,
Cold clouds and louring dulled the air;
But as I turned to Goodman's Lane,
The burning sun came out again;
And on the roof of Children's Row
In solemn glory shone the snow.
There did I lodge; there hope to die:
Envying no man - no, not I.
Not I
Walter De La Mare
(1)
Poem topics: children, hope, snow, sun, cold, street, roof, square, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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