Edward Thomas

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

Edward Thomas Poems

81. Birds' Nests 4/7/2010
82. Beauty 12/31/2002
83. Aspens 1/3/2003
84. As The Team's Head- Brass 3/19/2003
85. As The Clouds That Are So Light 4/7/2010
86. April 4/7/2010
87. And You, Helen 4/7/2010
88. Ambition 4/7/2010
89. After You Speak 4/7/2010
90. After Rain 4/7/2010
91. Adlestrop 12/31/2002
92. A Private 12/31/2002
93. A Gentleman 4/7/2010
94. A Cat 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Edward Thomas


Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying to-night or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all ...

Read the full of Rain

A Cat

She had a name among the children;
But no one loved though someone owned
Her, locked her out of doors at bedtime
And had her kittens duly drowned.

In Spring, nevertheless, this cat
Ate blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales,
And birds of bright voice and plume and flight,
As well as scraps from neighbours’ pails.

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