Half of the grove stood dead, and those that yet lived made
Little more than the dead ones made of shade.
If they led to a house, long before they had seen its fall:
But they welcomed me; I was glad without cause and delayed.
Scarce a hundred paces under the trees was the interval –
Paces each sweeter than the sweetest miles – but nothing at all,
Not even the spirits of memory and fear with restless wing,
Could climb down in to molest me over the wall
That I passed through at either end without noticing.
And now an ash grove far from those hills can bring
The same tranquillity in which I wander a ghost
With a ghostly gladness, as if I heard a girl sing
The song of the Ash Grove soft as love uncrossed,
And then in a crowd or in distance it were lost,
But the moment unveiled something unwilling to die
And I had what I most desired, without search or desert or cost.
(Edward Thomas)
More Poetry from Edward Thomas:
Edward Thomas Poems based on Topics: Nature, Memory, Ghost- After Rain (Edward Thomas Poems)
- Lob (Edward Thomas Poems)
- The Other (Edward Thomas Poems)
- The Chalk-Pit (Edward Thomas Poems)
- Man and Dog (Edward Thomas Poems)
- Haymaking (Edward Thomas Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Nature Poems, Memory Poems, Ghost PoemsBased on Keywords: noticing, uncrossed
- One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue - Part IV (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
- The Fate Of Henry Hudson (Nora Pembroke Poems)
- Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - VOL. II. (Storm - Summer) (Henry Baker Poems)
- The Ghost, (Richard Harris Barham Poems)
- Advice To Hear, And To Read, The Word Of God (Rees Prichard Poems)