Poems by Edward Thomas — Poems by Edward Thomas Section 6
Many years since, Bob Hayward died, and now None passes there because the mist and the rain Out of the elms have turned the lane to slough And gloom, the name alone survives, Bob's Lane.
EARLY ONE MORNING
EARLY one morning in May I set out, And nobody I knew was about.
I'm bound away for ever, Away somewhere, away for ever.
There was no wind to trouble the weathercocks.
I had burnt my letters and darned my socks.
No one knew I was going away, I thought myself I should come back some day.
I heard the brook through the town gardens run.
O sweet was the mud turned to dust by the sun.
A gate banged in a fence and banged in my head.
"A fine morning, sir."
a shepherd said.
I could not return from my liberty, To my youth and my love and my misery.
The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet, The only sweet thing that is not also fleet.
I'm bound away for ever, Away somewhere, away for ever.
THE CHERRY TREES
THE cherry trees bend over and are shedding On the old road where all that passed are dead, Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding This early May morn when there is none to wed.
IT RAINS
IT rains, and nothing stirs within the fence Anywhere through the orchard's untrodden, dense Forest of parsley.
The great diamonds Of rain on the grassblades there is none to break, Or the fallen petals further down to shake.
And I am nearly as happy as possible To search the wilderness in vain though well, To think of two walking, kissing there, Drenched, yet forgetting the kisses of the rain: Sad, too, to think that never, never again, Unless alone, so happy shall I walk In the rain.
When I turn away, on its fine stalk Twilight has fined to naught, the parsley flower Figures, suspended still and ghostly white, The past hovering as it revisits the light.
THE HUXTER
HE has a hump like an ape on his back;
He has of money a plentiful lack;
And but for a gay coat of double his girth There is not a plainer thing on the earth This fine May morning.
But the huxter has a bottle of beer;
He drives a cart and his wife sits near Who does not heed his lack or his hump;
And they laugh as down the lane they bump This fine May morning.
A GENTLEMAN
"HE has robbed two clubs.
The judge at Salisbury Can't give him more than he undoubtedly Deserves.
The scoundrel!
Look at his photograph!
A lady-killer!
Hanging's too good by half For such as he."
So said the stranger, one With crimes yet undiscovered or undone.
But at the inn the Gipsy dame began: "Now he was what I call a gentleman.
He went along with Carrie, and when she Had a baby he paid up so readily His half a crown.
Just like him.
A crown'd have been More like him.
For I never knew him mean.
Oh!
but he was such a nice gentleman.
Oh!
Last time we met he said if me and Joe Was anywhere near we must be sure and call.
He put his arms around our Amos all As if he were his own son.
I pray God Save him from justice!
Nicer man never trod."
