Author: Edward Thomas

OVER the land half freckled with snow half-thawed The speculating rooks at their nests cawed, And saw from elm-tops, delicate […]

IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep […]

No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know […]

NOW first, as I shut the door, I was alone In the new house; and the wind Began to moan. […]

She had a name among the children; But no one loved though someone owned Her, locked her out of doors […]

The cherry trees bend over and are shedding, On the old road where all that passed are dead, Their petals, […]

Rise up, rise up, And, as the trumpet blowing Chases the dreams of men, As the dawn glowing The stars […]

The glory of the beauty of the morning, – The cuckoo crying over the untouched dew; The blackbird that has […]

Some day, I think, there will be people enough In Froxfield to pick all the blackberries Out of the hedges […]

There are so many things I have forgot, That once were much to me, or that were not, All lost, […]

THE rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills Ran and sparkled down each side of the road Under the catkins […]

Like the touch of rain she was On a man’s flesh and hair and eyes When the joy of walking […]

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I […]

The green elm with the one great bough of gold Lets leaves into the grass slip, one by one, The […]

The flowers left thick at nightfall in the wood This Eastertide call into mind the men, Now far from home, […]

Out of us all That make rhymes Will you choose Sometimes – As the winds use A crack in a […]

As the team’s head-brass flashed out on the turn The lovers disappeared into the wood. I sat among the boughs […]

Old Man, or Lads-Love, – in the name there’s nothing To one that knows not Lads-Love, or Old Man, The […]

Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead Hang stars like seeds of light In vain, though not since they […]

The dim sea glints chill. The white sun is shy, And the skeleton weeds and the never-dry, Rough, long grasses […]