Poems by Edward Thomas
Old Man
... Often she waits there, snipping the tips and shrivelling ...
Rain
... Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: ...
Snow
... They have killed a white bird up there on her nest, ...
Sowing
... As sweet and dry was the ground ...
Tall Nettles
... These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough ...
The Cherry Trees
... Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding ...
The Dark Forest
... In vain, though not since they were sown was bred ...
The Glory
... And tread the pale dust pitted with small dark drops, ...
The Lane
... In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse ...
The Long Small Room
... One thing remains the same--this is my right hand Crawling crab-like over the clean white page, ...
The Manor Farm
... Drowsily through their forelocks, swishing their tails ...
The New House
... Of what was foretold, Nights of storm, days of mist, without end ...
The Owl
... All of the night was quite barred out except ...
The Path
... It serves Children for looking down the long smooth steep, ...
The Sign-Post
... Says: "At twenty you wished you had never been born ...
