Complete Poetical Works of Edward Thomas

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Complete Poetical Works of Edward Thomas Page 7

by Edward Thomas

To me, still happy me,

  To ask forgiveness, –

  Yet smiled with half a certainty

  To be forgiven, – for what

  She had never done; I knew not what it might be, 20

  Nor could she tell me, having now forgot,

  By rapture carried with me past all care

  As to an isle in April lovelier

  Than April’s self. ‘God bless you’ I said to her.

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  THE GLORY

  The glory of the beauty of the morning, –

  The cuckoo crying over the untouched dew;

  The blackbird that has found it, and the dove

  That tempts me on to something sweeter than love;

  White clouds ranged even and fair as new-mown hay; 5

  The heat, the stir, the sublime vacancy

  Of sky and meadow and forest and my own heart: –

  The glory invites me, yet it leaves me scorning

  All I can ever do, all I can be,

  Beside the lovely of motion, shape, and hue, 10

  The happiness I fancy fit to dwell

  In beauty’s presence. Shall I now this day

  Begin to seek as far as heaven, as hell,

  Wisdom or strength to match this beauty, start

  And tread the pale dust pitted with small dark drops, 15

  In hope to find whatever it is I seek,

  Hearkening to short-lived happy-seeming things

  That we know naught of, in the hazel copse?

  Or must I be content with discontent

  As larks and swallows are perhaps with wings? 20

  And shall I ask at the day’s end once more

  What beauty is, and what I can have meant

  By happiness? And shall I let all go,

  Glad, weary, or both? Or shall I perhaps know

  That I was happy oft and oft before, 25

  Awhile forgetting how I am fast pent,

  How dreary-swift, with naught to travel to,

  Is Time? I cannot bite the day to the core.

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  JULY

  Naught moves but clouds, and in the glassy lake

  Their doubles and the shadow of my boat.

  The boat itself stirs only when I break

  This drowse of heat and solitude afloat

  To prove if what I see be bird or mote, 5

  Or learn if yet the shore woods be awake.

  Long hours since dawn grew, – spread, – and passed on high

  And deep below, – I have watched the cool reeds hung

  Over images more cool in imaged sky:

  Nothing there was worth thinking of so long; 10

  All that the ring-doves say, far leaves among,

  Brims my mind with content thus still to lie.

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  THE CHALK-PIT

  ‘Is this the road that climbs above and bends

  Round what was once a chalk-pit: now it is

  By accident an amphitheatre.

  Some ash trees standing ankle-deep in briar

  And bramble act the parts, and neither speak 5

  Nor stir.’ ‘But see: they have fallen, every one,

  And briar and bramble have grown over them.’

  ‘That is the place. As usual no one is here.

  Hardly can I imagine the drop of the axe,

  And the smack that is like an echo, sounding here.’ 10

  ‘I do not understand.’ ‘Why, what I mean is

  That I have seen the place two or three times

  At most, and that its emptiness and silence

  And stillness haunt me, as if just before

  It was not empty, silent, still, but full 15

  Of life of some kind, perhaps tragical.

  Has anything unusual happened here?’

  ‘Not that I know of. It is called the Dell.

  They have not dug chalk here for a century.

  That was the ash trees’ age. But I will ask.’ 20

  ‘No. Do not. I prefer to make a tale,

  Or better leave it like the end of a play,

  Actors and audience and lights all gone;

  For so it looks now. In my memory

  Again and again I see it, strangely dark, 25

  And vacant of a life but just withdrawn.

  We have not seen the woodman with the axe.

  Some ghost has left it now as we two came.’

  ‘And yet you doubted if this were the road?’

  ‘Well, sometimes I have thought of it and failed 30

  To place it. No. And I am not quite sure,

  Even now, this is it. For another place,

  Real or painted, may have combined with it.

  Or I myself a long way back in time…’

  ‘Why, as to that, I used to meet a man – 35

  I had forgotten, – searching for birds’ nests

  Along the road and in the chalk-pit too.

  The wren’s hole was an eye that looked at him

  For recognition. Every nest he knew.

  He got a stiff neck, by looking this side or that, 40

  Spring after spring, he told me, with his laugh, –

  A sort of laugh. He was a visitor,

  A man of forty, – smoked and strolled about.

  At orts and crosses Pleasure and Pain had played

  On his brown features; – I think both had lost; – 45

  Mild and yet wild too. You may know the kind.

  And once or twice a woman shared his walks,

  A girl of twenty with a brown boy’s face,

  And hair brown as a thrush or as a nut,

  Thick eyebrows, glinting eyes – ‘ ‘You have said enough. 50

  A pair, – free thought, free love, – I know the breed:

  I shall not mix my fancies up with them.’

  ‘You please yourself. I should prefer the truth

  Or nothing. Here, in fact, is nothing at all

  Except a silent place that once rang loud, 55

  And trees and us – imperfect friends, we men

  And trees since time began; and nevertheless

  Between us still we breed a mystery.’

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  FIFTY FAGGOTS

  There they stand, on their ends, the fifty faggots

  That once were underwood of hazel and ash

  In Jenny Pinks’s Copse. Now, by the hedge

  Close packed, they make a thicket fancy alone

  Can creep through with the mouse and wren. Next Spring 5

  A blackbird or a robin will nest there,

  Accustomed to them, thinking they will remain

  Whatever is for ever to a bird:

  This Spring it is too late; the swift has come.

  ‘Twas a hot day for carrying them up: 10

  Better they will never warm me, though they must

  Light several Winters’ fires. Before they are done

  The war will have ended, many other things

  Have ended, maybe, that I can no more

  Foresee or more control than robin and wren. 15

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  SEDGE-WARBLERS

  This beauty made me dream there was a time

  Long past and irrecoverable, a clime

  Where any brook so radiant racing clear

  Through buttercup and kingcup bright as brass

  But gentle, nourishing the meadow grass 5

  That leans and scurries in the wind, would bear

  Another beauty, divine and feminine,

  Child to the sun, a nymph whose soul unstained

  Could love all day, and never hate or tir
e,

  A lover of mortal or immortal kin. 10

  And yet, rid of this dream, ere I had drained

  Its poison, quieted was my desire

  So that I only looked into the water,

  Clearer than any goddess or man’s daughter,

  And hearkened while it combed the dark green hair 15

  And shook the millions of the blossoms white

  Of water-crowfoot, and curdled to one sheet

  The flowers fallen from the chestnuts in the park

  Far off. And sedge-warblers, clinging so light

  To willow twigs, sang longer than the lark, 20

  Quick, shrill, or grating, a song to match the heat

  Of the strong sun, nor less the water’s cool,

  Gushing through narrows, swirling in the pool.

  Their song that lacks all words, all melody,

  All sweetness almost, was dearer then to me 25

  Than sweetest voice that sings in tune sweet words.

  This was the best of May – the small brown birds

  Wisely reiterating endlessly

  What no man learnt yet, in or out of school.

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  I BUILT MYSELF A HOUSE OF GLASS

  I built myself a house of glass:

  It took me years to make it:

  And I was proud. But now, alas,

  Would God someone would break it.

  But it looks too magnificent. 5

  No neighbour casts a stone

  From where he dwells, in tenement

  Or palace of glass, alone.

  The original manuscript

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  WORDS

  Out of us all

  That make rhymes,

  Will you choose

  Sometimes –

  As the winds use 5

  A crack in a wall

  Or a drain,

  Their joy or their pain

  To whistle through –

  Choose me, 10

  You English words?

  I know you:

  You are light as dreams,

  Tough as oak,

  Precious as gold, 15

  As poppies and corn,

  Or an old cloak:

  Sweet as our birds

  To the ear,

  As the burnet rose 20

  In the heat

  Of Midsummer:

  Strange as the races

  Of dead and unborn:

  Strange and sweet 25

  Equally,

  And familiar,

  To the eye,

  As the dearest faces

  That a man knows, 30

  And as lost homes are:

  But though older far

  Than oldest yew, –

  As our hills are, old, –

  Worn new 35

  Again and again:

  Young as our streams

  After rain:

  And as dear

  As the earth which you prove 40

  That we love.

  Make me content

  With some sweetness

  From Wales

  Whose nightingales 45

  Have no wings, –

  From Wiltshire and Kent

  And Herefordshire,

  And the villages there, –

  From the names, and the things 50

  No less.

  Let me sometimes dance

  With you,

  Or climb

  Or stand perchance 55

  In ecstasy,

  Fixed and free

  In a rhyme,

  As poets do.

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  THE WORD

  There are so many things I have forgot,

  That once were much to me, or that were not,

  All lost, as is a childless woman’s child

  And its child’s children, in the undefiled

  Abyss of what can never be again. 5

  I have forgot, too, names of the mighty men

  That fought and lost or won in the old wars,

  Of kings and fiends and gods, and most of the stars.

  Some things I have forgot that I forget.

  But lesser things there are, remembered yet, 10

  Than all the others. One name that I have not –

  Though ‘tis an empty thingless name – forgot

  Never can die because Spring after Spring

  Some thrushes learn to say it as they sing.

  There is always one at midday saying it clear 15

  And tart – the name, only the name I hear.

  While perhaps I am thinking of the elder scent

  That is like food, or while I am content

  With the wild rose scent that is like memory,

  This name suddenly is cried out to me 20

  From somewhere in the bushes by a bird

  Over and over again, a pure thrush word.

  The original manuscript

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  UNDER THE WOODS

  When these old woods were young

  The thrushes’ ancestors

  As sweetly sung

  In the old years.

  There was no garden here, 5

  Apples nor mistletoe;

  No children dear

  Ran to and fro.

  New then was this thatched cot,

  But the keeper was old, 10

  And he had not

  Much lead or gold.

  Most silent beech and yew:

  As he went round about

  The woods to view 15

  Seldom he shot.

  But now that he is gone

  Out of most memories,

  Still lingers on

  A stoat of his, 20

  But one, shrivelled and green,

  And with no scent at all,

  And barely seen

  On this shed wall.

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  HAYMAKING

  After night’s thunder far away had rolled

  The fiery day had a kernel sweet of cold,

  And in the perfect blue the clouds uncurled,

  Like the first gods before they made the world

  And misery, swimming the stormless sea 5

  In beauty and in divine gaiety.

  The smooth white empty road was lightly strewn

  With leaves – the holly’s Autumn falls in June –

  And fir cones standing stiff up in the heat.

  The mill-foot water tumbled white and lit 10

  With tossing crystals, happier than any crowd

  Of children pouring out of school aloud.

  And in the little thickets where a sleeper

  For ever might lie lost, the nettle-creeper

  And garden warbler sang unceasingly; 15

  While over them shrill shrieked in his fierce glee

  The swift with wings and tail as sharp and narrow

  As if the bow had flown off with the arrow.

  Only the scent of woodbine and hay new-mown

  Travelled the road. In the field sloping down, 20

  Park-like, to where its willows showed the brook,

  Haymakers rested. The tosser lay forsook

  Out in the sun; and the long waggon stood

  Without its team, it seemed it never would

  Move from the shadow of that single yew. 25

  The team, as still, until their task was due,

  Beside the labourers enjoyed the shade

  That three squat oaks mid-field together made

  Upon a circle of grass and weed uncut,

  And on the hollow, once a chalk-pit, but 30

  Now brimmed with nut and elder-flower
so clean.

  The men leaned on their rakes, about to begin,

  But still. And all were silent. All was old,

  This morning time, with a great age untold,

  Older than Clare and Cobbett, Morland and Crome, 35

  Than, at the field’s far edge, the farmer’s home,

  A white house crouched at the foot of a great tree.

  Under the heavens that know not what years be

  The men, the beasts, the trees, the implements

  Uttered even what they will in times far hence – 40

  All of us gone out of the reach of change –

  Immortal in a picture of an old grange.

  The original manuscript

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  A DREAM

  Over known fields with an old friend in dream

  I walked, but came sudden to a strange stream.

  Its dark waters were bursting out most bright

  From a great mountain’s heart into the light.

  They ran a short course under the sun, then back 5

  Into a pit they plunged, once more as black

  As at their birth; and I stood thinking there

  How white, had the day shone on them, they were,

  Heaving and coiling. So by the roar and hiss

  And by the mighty motion of the abyss 10

  I was bemused, that I forgot my friend

  And neither saw nor sought him till the end,

  When I awoke from waters unto men

  Saying: ‘I shall be here some day again.’

  List of poems in chronological order

  List of poems in alphabetical order

  THE BROOK

  Seated once by a brook, watching a child

  Chiefly that paddled, I was thus beguiled.

  Mellow the blackbird sang and sharp the thrush

  Not far off in the oak and hazel brush,

  Unseen. There was a scent like honeycomb 5

  From mugwort dull. And down upon the dome

  Of the stone the cart-horse kicks against so oft

  A butterfly alighted. From aloft

  He took the heat of the sun, and from below.

 

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