Edward Thomas

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

Beauty - Poem by Edward Thomas

WHAT does it mean? Tired, angry, and ill at ease,
No man, woman, or child alive could please
Me now. And yet I almost dare to laugh
Because I sit and frame an epitaph-
'Here lies all that no one loved of him
And that loved no one.' Then in a trice that whim
Has wearied. But, though I am like a river
At fall of evening when it seems that never
Has the sun lighted it or warmed it, while
Cross breezes cut the surface to a file,
This heart, some fraction of me, hapily
Floats through a window even now to a tree
Down in the misting, dim-lit, quiet vale;
Not like a pewit that returns to wail
For something it has lost, but like a dove
That slants unanswering to its home and love.
There I find my rest, and through the dusk air
Flies what yet lives in me. Beauty is there

Topic(s) of this poem: beauty

Comments about Beauty by Edward Thomas

  • Bronze Star - 2,939 Points Shahin Latif (10/16/2015 4:22:00 PM)

    Nice poem. I enjoyed to read. Thank a lot. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Freshman - 963 Points Crystal Pierce (3/31/2015 6:17:00 PM)

    Beautiful poem! Amazing (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Charlie Annalls (7/21/2013 3:29:00 PM)

    Truly a man who knows what it means...... (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Sohini Sengupta (5/3/2012 9:24:00 AM)

    Here lies all that no one loved of him
    And that loved no one.
    splendor of words threaded into magic.. these linger in your mind for a long time (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: river, woman, tree, child, beauty, lost, home, sun, heart, women, children

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Poem Edited: Saturday, December 27, 2014

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