8. All but blind

All but blind

      In his chambered hole

Gropes for worms

     The four-clawed Mole.

All but blind

      In the evening sky

The hooded Bat

      Twirls swiftly by.

All but blind

     In the burning day

The Barn-Owl blunders

     On her way.

And blind as are

     These three to me

So, blind to Some-One

     I must be.

Walter de la Mare