you and me and the cottage of lost play
@himbofaggins
You and me--we know that land And often have been there In the long old days, old nursery days, A dark child and a fair. Was it down the paths of firelight dreams In winter cold and white, Or in the blue-spun twilit hours Of little early tucked-up beds In drowsy summer night, That You and I got lost in Sleep And met each other there-- Your dark hair on your white nightgown, And mine was tangled fair? We wandered shyly hand in hand, Or rollicked in the fairy sand And gathered pearls and shells in pails, While all about the nightingales Were singing in the trees. We dug for silver with our spades By little inland sparkling seas,Then ran ashore through sleepy seas, And down a warm and winding lane And never never found again Between high whispering trees. The air was neither night or day, But faintly dark with softest light, When first there glimmered into sightThe Cottage of Lost Play. 'Twas builded very very old White, and thatched with straws of gold, And pierced with peeping lattices That looked toward the sea; And our own children's garden-plots Were there--our own forgetmenots, Red daisies, cress and mustard, And blue nemophile. O! All the borders trimmed with box Were full of favourite flowers--of phlox, Of larkspur, pinks, and hollyhocks Beneath a red may-tree: And all the paths were full of shapes, Of tumbling happy white-clad shapes, And with them You and Me. And some had silver watering-cans And watered all their gowns, Or sprayed each other; some laid plans To build them houses, fairy towns, Or dwellings in the trees; And some were clambering on the roof; Some crooning lonely and aloof; And some were dancing fairy-rings And weaving pearly daisy-strings, Or chasing golden bees; But here and there a little pair With rosy cheeks and tangled hair Debated quaint old childish things-- And we were one of these. But why it was there came a time When we could take the road no more, Though long we looked, and high would climb, Or gaze from many a seaward shore To find the path between sea and sky To those old gardens of delight; And how it goes now in that land, If there the house and gardens stand, Still filled with children clad in white-- We know not, You and I. And why it was Tomorrow came And with his grey hand led us back; And why we never found the same Old cottage, or the magic track That leads between a silver sea And those old shores and gardens fair Where all things are, that ever were-- We know not, You and Me.[2]:28-30 [edit] The Poem (final version) The Little House of Lost Play: Mar Vanwa Tyalieva We knew that land once, You and I, and once we wandered there in the long days now long gone by, a dark child and a fair. Was it on the paths of firelight thought in winter cold and white, or in the blue-spun twilit hours of little early tucked-up beds in drowsy summer night, that you and I in Sleep went down to meet each other there, your dark hair on your white nightgown and mine was tangled fair? We wandered shyly hand in hand, small footprints in the golden sand, and gathered pearls and shells in pails, while all about the nightingales were singing in the trees. We dug for silver with our spades, and caught the sparkle of the seas, then ran ashore to greenlit glades, and found the warm and winding lane that now we cannot find again, between tall whispering trees. There was neither night nor day, an ever-eve of gloaming light, when first there glimmered into sight the Little House of Play. New-built it was, yet very old, white, and thatched with straws of gold, and pierced with peeping lattices that looked toward the sea; and our own children's garden-plots were there: our own forget-me-nots, red daisies, cress and mustard, and radishes for tea. There all the borders, trimmed with box, were filled with favourite flowers, with phlox, with lupins, pinks, and hollyhocks, beneath a red may-tree; and all the gardens full of folk that their own little language spoke, but not to You and Me. For some had silver watering-cans and watered all their gowns, or sprayed each other; some laid plans to build their houses, little towns and dwellings in the trees. And some were clambering on the roof; some crooning lonely and aloof; some dancing round the fairy-rings all garlanded in daisy-strings, while some upon their knees before a little white-robed king crowned with marigold would sing their rhymes of long ago. But side by side a little pair with heads together, mingled hair, went walking to and fro still hand in hand; and what they said, ere Waking far apart them led, that only we now know.[2]:30-31 [edit] External links Placed to music by Colin Rudd References ↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.), The Book of Lost Tales Part One, "I. The Cottage of Lost Play": "Notes and Commentary", pp. 27-32 ↑ 2.0 2.1 J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.), The Book of Lost Tales Part One, "I. The Cottage of Lost Play", You & Me and the Cottage of Lost Play Category: Poems by J.R.R. Tolkien PAGE TALK EDIT HISTORY This page was last modified on 27 July 2019, at 13:21. This page has been accessed 31,609 times. Content is available under GNU Free Documentation License. About Tolkien Gateway Original design by Vesa Piittinen, redesigned by User:Mith – original artwork used in design by John Howe and Ted Nasmith
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