All the birds in Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire

I recently posted (11 December) about the poetry of Edward Thomas, but did not quote in full his most famous poem, staple of many a school anthology.  It is, of course, Adlestrop, and I have always loved this for its simple evocation of the quiet of the countryside, and the serendipity of a landscape that slows and forms unexpectedly when a train – as they so often do – comes to a halt in the middle of nowhere.  And the final two stanzas capture beautifully the flowers and birdsong of a rural England that was still thriving in the early decades of the last century (and which I hope we are slowly, stutteringly, rebuilding).  This is Edward Thomas’ Adlestrop.

Yes, I remember Adlestrop –

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed.  Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform.  What I saw

Was Adlestrop – only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

Comments

[Natalie]

Thank you for posting this wonderful poem.

[Peter the flautist]

Hi Glo, I have read "The Pure & The Impure" and nearly finished "The Ripening Seed". I hope, with Lindsay, that we are indeed beginning to rebuild our British countryside, and maybe rebuild Adlestrop railway halt too. Happy New Year

Dark Puss

[glo]

Just stopping by briefly to wish you and Dark Puss (and all readers) a nice Chritsmas holiday and a happy New Year! I'll be back in 2009.

To Dark Puss
Concerning your Colette reading, don't worry, lovely Cat, there is no need to hurry. See you soon...