Edward Thomas

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

Edward Thomas Poems

41. A Gentleman 4/7/2010
42. April 4/7/2010
43. First Known When Lost 4/7/2010
44. The Brook 4/7/2010
45. Over The Hills 4/7/2010
46. Birds' Nests 4/7/2010
47. The Gallows 4/7/2010
48. Liberty 4/7/2010
49. As The Clouds That Are So Light 4/7/2010
50. For These 4/7/2010
51. Ambition 4/7/2010
52. Gone, Gone Again 4/7/2010
53. Digging 4/7/2010
54. The Path 12/31/2002
55. Digging 2 4/7/2010
56. Early One Morning 4/7/2010
57. The Sign-Post 12/31/2002
58. After You Speak 4/7/2010
59. The Long Small Room 12/31/2002
60. The Lane 1/3/2003
61. The Word 12/31/2002
62. The Manor Farm 12/31/2002
63. The Trumpet 12/31/2002
64. Unknown 1/3/2003
65. The New House 12/31/2002
66. A Private 12/31/2002
67. Sowing 12/31/2002
68. Bob's Lane 12/31/2002
69. When First I Came Here 12/31/2002
70. In Memoriam 1/3/2003
71. If I Should Ever By Chance 12/31/2002
72. Cock-Crow 12/31/2002
73. After Rain 4/7/2010
74. The Dark Forest 1/3/2003
75. Snow 12/31/2002
76. October 12/31/2002
77. And You, Helen 4/7/2010
78. Thaw 12/31/2002
79. Lights Out 12/31/2002
80. As The Team's Head- Brass 3/19/2003

Comments about Edward Thomas

  • jack whitfeld (4/27/2018 2:16:00 PM)

    lol i live in adlestrop

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  • Tony Walton (8/27/2012 2:23:00 PM)

    Edward Thomas is considered by many major poets, such as T.S.Eliot and Ted Hughes, to have a big influence on the development of English poetry in the 20th century. Hughes said: He is the father of us all.
    Thomas and Robert Frost were best friends. It was Frost who encouraged Thomas to turn to poetry at the age of 36, three years before his death.
    He is still not as widely known as Wilfred Owen, who was the other significant poet to be killed on the Western Front.
    Please read my poem 'Roads To France' written about him and in his memory.

  • Nawaz Hassan (1/16/2005 9:24:00 AM)

    i need the Comparison between 'Tall Nettles' and 'Thistles'

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 Dark Forest

Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead
Hang stars like seeds of light
In vain, though not since they were sown was bred
Anything more bright.

And evermore mighty multitudes ride
About, nor enter in;
Of the other multitudes that dwell inside
Never yet was one seen.

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