The Lane
Item
Title
The Lane
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Description
Some day, I think, there will be people enough
In Froxfield to pick all the blackberries
Out of the hedges of Green Lane, the straight
Broad lane where now September hides herself
In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse.
To-day, where yesterday a hundred sheep
Were nibbling, halcyon bells shake to the sway
Of waters that no vessel ever sailed . . .
It is a kind of spring: the chaffinch tries
His song. For heat it is like summer too.
This might be winter's quiet. While the glint
Of hollies dark in the swollen hedges lasts---
One mile---and those bells ring, little I know
Or heed if time be still the same, until
The lane ends and once more all is the same.
In Froxfield to pick all the blackberries
Out of the hedges of Green Lane, the straight
Broad lane where now September hides herself
In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse.
To-day, where yesterday a hundred sheep
Were nibbling, halcyon bells shake to the sway
Of waters that no vessel ever sailed . . .
It is a kind of spring: the chaffinch tries
His song. For heat it is like summer too.
This might be winter's quiet. While the glint
Of hollies dark in the swollen hedges lasts---
One mile---and those bells ring, little I know
Or heed if time be still the same, until
The lane ends and once more all is the same.
Identifier
2967.txt
Creator
Thomas, Edward (1878-1917)
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Date
1979
Date Created
1979-01-01
Temporal Coverage
1979-12-31
Type
Poem
Publisher
The First World War Poetry Digital Archive
