Phillip Edward Thomas was an Anglo-Welsh writer of prose and poetry. He is commonly considered a war poet, although few of his poems deal directly with his war experiences. Already an accomplished writer, Thomas turned to poetry only in 1914. He enlisted in the army in 1915, and was killed in action during the Battle of Arras in 1917, soon after he arrived in France.
Thomas was born in Lambeth, London. He was educated at Battersea Grammar School, St Paul's School and Lincoln College, Oxford. His family were mostly Welsh. Unusually, he married while still an undergraduate and determined to live his life by the pen. He then worked as a book reviewer, ... more »
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- The Cherry Trees
- Like the Touch of Rain
- The Owl
- As the Team's Head- Brass
- A Cat
- Lights Out
- Old Man
- The Glory
Quotationsmore quotations »
''No one left and no one cameEdward Thomas (1878-1917), British poet. Adlestrop (l. 6-9). . . Oxford Book of Twentieth-Century English Verse, The. Philip Larkin, ed. (1973) Ox...
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestroponly the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,''
''EverythingEdward Thomas (1878-1917), British poet. As the Team's Head-Brass (l. 30-33). . . Oxford Book of Twentieth-Century English Verse, The. Philip Lark...
Would have been different. For it would have been
Another world.' 'Ay, and a better, though
If we could see all all might seem good.'''
''As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turnEdward Thomas (1878-1917), British poet. As the Team's Head-Brass (l. 1-2). . . Oxford Book of Twentieth-Century English Verse, The. Philip Larkin...
The lovers disappeared into the wood.''
Out of the wood of thoughts that grows by nightEdward Thomas (1878-1917), British poet. Cock-Crow (l. 1-4). . . Oxford Book of Short Poems, The. P. J. Kavanagh and James Michie, eds. Oxford Uni...
To be cut down by the sharp ax of light,
Out of the night, two cocks together crow,
Cleaving the darkness with a silver blow:...
''It is enoughEdward Thomas (1878-1917), British poet. Digging (l. 13-16). . . Oxford Book of Twentieth-Century English Verse, The. Philip Larkin, ed. (1973) Ox...
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth.''
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