Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917)
SowingIt was a perfect day
For sowing; just
As sweet and dry was the ground
As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour
Between the far
Owl's chuckling first soft cry
And the first star. A long stretched hour it was;
Nothing undone
Remained; the early seeds
All safely sown. And now, hark at the rain,
Windless and light,
Half a kiss, half a tear,
Saying good-night.
 UK Buyers | Purchase the BookCollected Poems (Paperback)
by Edward Thomas (Author) Though sometimes classified with Owen, Rosenberg and Sassoon as a 'war poet', he was rather a poet who died tragically in the war, and whose main subjects were the English countryside and its people, and the solitude of the observing self. The present edition offers the complete poems together with detailed editorial apparatus in what has become acknowledged as the standard edition by R. George Thomas. It also includes Thomas's remarkable prose War Diary of 1917.
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