Edward Thomas

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

Edward Thomas Poems

81. Thaw 12/31/2002
82. As The Team's Head- Brass 3/19/2003
83. Tall Nettles 12/31/2002
84. Lights Out 12/31/2002
85. The Owl 12/31/2002
86. Celandine 12/31/2002
87. Aspens 1/3/2003
88. A Cat 1/3/2003
89. The Glory 3/19/2003
90. Beauty 12/31/2002
91. Words 1/3/2003
92. The Cherry Trees 12/31/2002
93. Like The Touch Of Rain 1/3/2003
94. Rain 12/31/2002
95. Adlestrop 12/31/2002

Comments about Edward Thomas

  • 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.

    43 person liked.
    26 person did not like.
  • 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

Celandine

Thinking of her had saddened me at first,
Until I saw the sun on the celandines lie
Redoubled, and she stood up like a flame,
A living thing, not what before I nursed,
The shadow I was growing to love almost,
The phantom, not the creature with bright eye
That I had thought never to see, once lost.

She found the celandines of February

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