Poems of Edward Thomas
|42.||It Was Upon||4/7/2010|
|45.||Like the Touch of Rain||1/3/2003|
|48.||Man and Dog||4/7/2010|
|49.||No One So Much As You||3/16/2003|
|52.||Over The Hills||4/7/2010|
|59.||The Ash Grove||4/7/2010|
Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob,
Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but he
Loved horses. He himself was like a cob
And leather-coloured. Also he loved a tree.
For the life in them he loved most living things,
But a tree chiefly. All along the lane
He planted elms where now the stormcock sings
That travellers hear from the slow-climbing train.