Digging
DIGGER [2] by EDWARD THOMAS
What matter makes my spade for tears or mirth,
Letting down two clay pipes into the earth?
The one I smoked, the other a soldier
Of Blenheim, Ramillies, and Malplaquet
Perhaps. The dead man's immortality
Lies represented lightly with my own,
A yard or two nearer the living air
Than bones of ancients who, amazed to see
Almighty God erect the mastodon,
Once laughed, or wept, in this same light of day.
Title |
Digging
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Author |
Thomas, Edward (1878-1917)
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Item date |
1979
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Content | |
Copyright |
Copyright Edward Thomas, 1979, reproduced under licence from Faber and Faber Ltd.
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Digital repository | |
Repository name |
ProQuest
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Repository address URL | |
First line |
What matter makes my spade for tears or mirth,
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Publication source |
Edward Thomas Collected Poems
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Publication editor |
Thomas, George
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Publishers |
Faber and Faber
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Publication place |
London
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Collection
Citation
“Digging,” 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 28, 2024, http://ww1lit.nsms.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/collections/item/2871.
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