The Starved

W. H. Davies

1871 to 1940

Poem Image
Track 1

Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.

Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
More rosy cheeks and louder crow.
And I have much to do for thee.
My little Lamb, what is amiss?
If thou couldst live on love, I know
Thy father's dead, Alas for thee:
That takes away thy milk from me,
My little Lamb, what is amiss?
If there was milk in mother's kiss,
If thy dear father lived, he'd drive
The wolf of Hunger, it is he
Ah, my poor babe, my love's so great
I'd swallow common rags for meat—
I cannot keep this wolf from me,
Away this beast with whom I strive,
That takes thy milk so bold and free.
If they could make milk rich and sweet.
Come, I must wake thee with a kiss,
And thou, my pretty Lamb, wouldst thrive.
No babe in all the land could show
You would not look as white as this.
For Death would own a sleep like this.