Edward Thomas

Edward Thomas

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

The Owl

Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;
Cold, yet had heat within me that was
Against the North wind; tired, yet so that
Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof
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Fifty Faggots

There they stand, on their ends, the fifty fag
That once were underwood of hazel and
In Jenny Pink's copse
Now, by the
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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
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Tall Nettles

Tall nettles cover up, as they have done These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:
Only the elm butt tops the nettles now
This corner of the farmyard I like most:
As well as any bl...
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The Path

Running along a bank, a parapet That saves from the precipitous wood below The level road, there is a path
It serves Children for looking down the long smooth steep,
Between the legs of beech and yew, to where A fallen tree checks the si...
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In the gloom of whiteness,
In the great silence of snow,
A child was
And bitterly saying:`Oh,
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Thinking of her had saddened me at first,
Until I saw the sun on the celandines
Redoubled, and she stood up like a flame,
A living thing, not what before I nursed,
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