All Hallows by Walter de La Mare

Classic Ghost Stories

Tony Walker

Fiction, Drama, Science Fiction

4.9 • 686 Ratings

🗓️ 27 July 2023

⏱️ 102 minutes

🔗️ Recording | iTunes | RSS

🧾️ Download transcript

Summary

Walter de La Mare (1873-1956) was an English poet, novelist, and short story writer known for his imaginative and evocative works. Born on April 25, 1873, in London, de La Mare began writing poetry and short stories during the 1890s while working as a bookkeeper. Despite not being a regular churchgoer, he held strong cultural Christianity and drew upon biblical themes and imagery in his writing.De La Mare's literary career took off with the publication of his first major work, the poetry collection "Songs of Childhood" in 1902. This collection showcased his romantic sensibilities, emphasizing intuition, deep emotion, and spiritual truths often associated with childhood. His poetic style was marked by rich imagery, lyrical language, and a sense of mystery. De La Mare's work gained recognition for its exploration of the supernatural and the depths of the human psyche. New Patreon Request Buzzsprout - Let's get your podcast launched! Start for FREE Support the showVisit us here: www.ghostpod.orgBuy me a coffee if you're glad I do this: https://ko-fi.com/tonywalkerIf you really want to help me, become a Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/barcudMusic by The Heartwood Institute: https://bit.ly/somecomeback Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Transcript

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0:00.0	All Hallows by Walter Dillamere.
0:17.0	And because time in itself can receive no alteration,
0:23.9	the hallowing must consist in the shape or countenance
0:27.2	which we put upon the affairs that are incident in these days.
0:31.9	Richard Hooker.
0:33.9	It was about half-past three on an August afternoon when I found myself for the first time,
0:40.3	looking down upon all hallows. And at glimpse of it, fatigue and vexation passed away. I stood,
0:48.3	at gaze, as the old phrase goes, like the two children of Israel sent in to spy out the promised land.
0:57.0	How often the imagined transcends the real?
1:01.0	Not so all hallows.
1:04.0	Having at last reached the end of my journey, flies, dust, heat, wind,
1:09.0	having at last come limping out upon the green sea bluff beneath which lay
1:14.5	its walls. I confess, the actuality excelled my feeble dreams of it. What most astonished me, perhaps,
1:24.4	was the sense not so much of its age, its austerity, or even its solitude,
1:30.3	but its air of abandonment.
1:33.3	It lay couched there as if hiding in its narrow sea bay.
1:38.3	Not a sound was in the air, and not a jackdor clapped its wings among its turrets. No other roof, not even a chimney was
1:47.0	inside, only the dark blue arch of the sky, the narrow snowline of the ebbing tide, and that gaunt coast,
1:56.8	fading away into the haze of a west over which were already gathering the veils of sunset.
2:03.3	We had met then at an appropriate hour and season, and yet, I wonder, for it was certainly not
2:11.5	the beauty of all hallows, lulled as if into a dream in this serenity of air and heavens, which was to leave the sharpest
2:18.6	impression upon me. And what kind of first showing would it have made I speculated if an
	...

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