Ivor Gurney

(1890-1937 / England)

Old Thought - Poem by Ivor Gurney

Autumn that name of creeper falling and tea-time loving,
Was once for me the thought of High Cotswold noon-air,
And the earth smell, turning brambles, and half-cirrus moving,
Mixed with the love of body and travel of good turf there.
O up in height, O snatcht up O swiftly going,
Common to beechwood, breathing was loving, the yet
Unknown Crickley cliffs trumpeted, set music on glowing
In my mind. White Cotswold, wine scarlet woods and leaf wreckage wet.

Comments about Old Thought by Ivor Gurney

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

[Report Error]