
Walter De la Mare wrote poetry that exists in the half-light between waking and dreaming. This 1921 collection embodies his singular gift: casting ordinary moments, the rustle of wind through trees, a chance encounter by water, into something uncanny and unforgettable. The title poem, "The Veil," meditates on a masked lady and the allure of what remains hidden, its language soft as mothwings yet sharp with longing. In "The Old Angler," an ancient fisherman meets a naïad in a stream, her existence confirmed only by a glimpse of pale shoulders before she's gone, leaving only melancholy. "The Fairy in Winter" captures that delicate moment when magic flickers at the edges of the observable world. Throughout, De la Mare works in a liminal space, blurring the membrane between the seen and unseen. His poems feel like memories of dreams you've never had, or secrets whispered by someone you can't quite remember.














![Birds and Nature, Vol. 12 No. 1 [June 1902]illustrated by Color Photography](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fd3b2n8gj62qnwr.cloudfront.net%2FCOVERS%2Fgutenberg_covers75k%2Febook-47881.png&w=3840&q=75)

