Edward Thomas

(3 March 1878 - 9 April 1917 / London / England)

Edward Thomas Poems

81. The Manor Farm 12/31/2002
82. The New House 12/31/2002
83. The Other 4/7/2010
84. The Owl 12/31/2002
85. The Path 12/31/2002
86. The Sign-Post 12/31/2002
87. The Sorrow of True Love  5/4/2015
88. The Trumpet 12/31/2002
89. The Word 12/31/2002
90. This Is No Case Of Petty Right Or Wrong 4/7/2010
91. To-Night 4/7/2010
92. Two Pewits 4/7/2010
93. Unknown 1/3/2003
94. When First I Came Here 12/31/2002
95. Words 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Edward Thomas

Adlestrop

Yes, I remember Adlestrop --
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of ...

Read the full of Adlestrop

The Trumpet

Rise up, rise up,
And, as the trumpet blowing
Chases the dreams of men,
As the dawn glowing
The stars that left unlit
The land and water,
Rise up and scatter
The dew that covers
The print of last night's lovers -

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