1 min read
Слушать(AI)Lovers
The two men in the road were taken aback.
The lovers came out shading their eyes from the sun,
And never was white so white, or black so black,
As her cheeks and hair. `There are more things than oneA man might turn into a wood for,
Jack,'Said George;
Jack whispered: `He has not got a gun.
It's a bit too much of a good thing,
I say.
They are going the other road, look.
And see her run.'She ran. - 'What a thing it is, this picking may!'
Edward Thomas
Philip Edward Thomas (3 March 1878 – 9 April 1917) was a British poet, essayist, and novelist. He is considered a war poet, although few of his
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Gone Gone Again
Gone, gone again, May, June, July,
The Dark Forest
Dark is the forest and deep, and Hang stars like seeds of In vain, though not since they were sown was Anything more bright
Health
Four miles at a leap, over the dark hollow land, To the frosted steep of the down and its junipers black, Travels my eye with equal ease and delight: And scarce could my body leap four yards
Good-Night
The skylarks are far behind that sang over the down; I can hear no more those suburb nightingales; Thrushes and blackbirds sing in the gardens of the In vain: the noise of man, beast, and machine prevails