Share this poet:
Edward Thomas
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 |
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 ...
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
