April (Edward Thomas Poems)
The sweetest thing, I thoughtAt one time, between earth and heavenWas the first smileWhen mist has been forgivenAnd the sun ...
The sweetest thing, I thoughtAt one time, between earth and heavenWas the first smileWhen mist has been forgivenAnd the sun ...
The green roads that end in the forestAre strewn with white goose feathers this June,Life marks left behind by someone ...
I never saw that land before,And now can never see it again;Yet, as if by acquaintance hoarEndeared, by gladness and ...
One hour: as dim he and his house now lookAs a reflection in a rippling brook,While I remember him; but ...
When first I came here I had hope, Hope for I knew not what. Fast beat My heart at the ...
To-day I want the sky,The tops of the high hills,Above the last man's house,His hedges, and his cows,Where, if I ...
Often and often it came back againTo mind, the day I passed the horizon ridgeTo a new country, the path ...
I have come to the borders of sleep, The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, ...
The skylarks are far behind that sang over the down;I can hear no more those suburb nightingales;Thrushes and blackbirds sing ...
Gone, gone again, May, June, July, And August gone, Again gone by, Not memorable Save that I saw them go, ...
What does it mean? Tired, angry, and ill at ease, No man, woman, or child alive could please Me now. ...
Not the end: but there's nothing more.Sweet Summer and Winter rudeI have loved, and friendship and love,The crowd and solitude:But ...
'He has robbed two clubs. The judge at SalisburyCan't give him more than he undoubtedlyDeserves. The scoundrel! Look at his ...
And you, Helen, what should I give you?So many things I would give youHad I an infinite great storeOffered me ...
The long small room that showed willows in the west Narrowed up to the end the fireplace filled, Although not ...
Often I had gone this way beforeBut now it seemed I never could beAnd never had been anywhere else;'Twas home; ...
Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob,Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but heLoved horses. He himself was like a cobAnd ...
Early one morning in May I set out,And nobody I knew was about.I'm bound away for ever,Away somewhere, away for ...
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rainOn this bleak hut, and solitude, and meRemembering again that I shall dieAnd ...
Some day, I think, there will be people enoughIn Froxfield to pick all the blackberriesOut of the hedges of Green ...
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;Cold, yet had heat within me that was proofAgainst the North wind; tired, ...
An acre of land between the shore and the hills,Upon a ledge that shows my kingdoms three,The lovely visible earth ...
he summer nests uncovered by autumn wind,Some torn, others dislodged, all dark,Everyone sees them: low or high in tree,Or hedge, ...
Gone the wild day:A wilder nightComing makes wayFor brief twilight.Where the firm soaked roadMounts and is lostIn the high beech-woodIt ...
She is most fair,And when they see her passThe poets' ladiesLook no more in the glassBut after her.On a bleak ...
There they stand, on their ends, the fifty fag gotsThat once were underwood of hazel and ashIn Jenny Pink's copse. ...
t stood in the sunset skyLike the straight-backed down,Many a time - the barnAt the edge of town,So huge and ...
Yes, I remember Adlestrop,The name, because one afternoonOf heat the express-train drew up thereUnwontedly. It was late June.The steam hissed. ...
It was upon a July evening.At a stile I stood, looking along a pathOver the country by a second SpringDrenched ...
I have come a long way to-day:On a strange bridge alone,Remembering friends, old friends,I rest, without smile or moan,As they ...
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