Melancholy
MELANCHOLY by EDWARD THOMAS
The rain and wind, the rain and wind, raved endlessly.
On me the Summer storm, and fever, and melancholy
Wrought magic, so that if I feared the solitude
Far more I feared all company: too sharp, too rude,
Had been the wisest or the dearest human voice.
What I desired I knew not, but whate'er my choice
Vain it must be, I knew. Yet naught did my despair
But sweeten the strange sweetness, while through the wild air
All day long I heard a distant cuckoo calling
And, soft as dulcimers, sounds of near water falling,
And, softer, and remote as if in history,
Rumours of what had touched my friends, my foes, or me.
| Title |
Melancholy
|
|---|---|
| Author |
Thomas, Edward (1878-1917)
|
| Item date |
1979
|
| Content | |
| Copyright |
Copyright Edward Thomas, 1979, reproduced under licence from Faber and Faber Ltd.
|
| Digital repository | |
| Repository name |
ProQuest
|
| Repository address URL | |
| First line |
The rain and wind, the rain and wind, raved endlessly.
|
| Publication source |
Edward Thomas Collected Poems
|
| Publication editor |
Thomas, George
|
| Publishers |
Faber and Faber
|
| Publication place |
London
|
Collection
Citation
“Melancholy,” by Thomas, Edward (1878-1917). Copyright Edward Thomas, 1979, reproduced under licence from Faber and Faber Ltd. via First World War Poetry Digital Archive, accessed April 19, 2024, http://ww1lit.nsms.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/collections/item/2913.
Permitted Use
This item is available for non-commercial educational use under the terms of the Jisc Model Licence. Further details available at: http://ww1lit.nsms.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/permitteduse
