The Poetry Corner

Not I

By Walter De La Mare

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.