The Owl
THE OWL by EDWARD THOMAS
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;
Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof
Against the North wind; tired, yet so that rest
Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof.
Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest,
Knowing how hungry, cold, and tired was I.
All of the night was quite barred out except
An owl's cry, a most melancholy cry
Shaken out long and clear upon the hill,
No merry note, nor cause of merriment,
But one telling me plain what I escaped
And others could not, that night, as in I went.
And salted was my food, and my repose,
Salted and sobered, too, by the bird's voice
Speaking for all who lay under the stars,
Soldiers and poor, unable to rejoice.
Title |
The Owl
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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 |
Downhill I came hungry, and yet not starved;
|
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
“The Owl,” 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 May 10, 2024, http://ww1lit.nsms.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/collections/item/2872.
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