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54717: It Rains

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posted on 2024-04-25, 17:29 authored by First World War Poetry Digital Archive Project Team

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.

History

Identifier

2908.txt

Creator

Thomas, Edward (1878-1917)

Date

1979

Date Created

01/01/1979

Temporal Date

31/12/1979

Type

Poem

Rights

Copyright Edward Thomas, 1979, reproduced under licence from Faber and Faber Ltd.

Repository Name

ProQuest

Publisher

The First World War Poetry Digital Archive

Usage metrics

    The Edward Thomas Collection

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