Lob (Edward Thomas Poems)
At hawthorn-time in Wiltshire travellingIn search of something chance would never bring,An old man's face, by life and weather cutAnd ...
At hawthorn-time in Wiltshire travellingIn search of something chance would never bring,An old man's face, by life and weather cutAnd ...
There are so many things I have forgot, That once were much to me, or that were not, All lost, ...
The green roads that end in the forestAre strewn with white goose feathers this June,Life marks left behind by someone ...
Half of the grove stood dead, and those that yet lived madeLittle more than the dead ones made of shade.If ...
Often I had gone this way beforeBut now it seemed I never could beAnd never had been anywhere else;'Twas home; ...
There are so many things I have forgot, That once were much to me, or that were not, All lost, ...
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