March the Third
MARCH THE 3RD by EDWARD THOMAS
Here again (she said) is March the third
And twelve hours singing for the bird
'Twixt dawn and dusk, from half past six
To half past six, never unheard.
'Tis Sunday, and the church-bells end
With the birds' songs. I think they blend
Better than in the same fair days
That shall pronounce the Winter's end.
Do men mark, and none dares say,
How it may shift and long delay,
Somewhere before the first of Spring,
But never fails, this singing day?
And when it falls on Sunday, bells
Are a wild natural voice that dwells
On hillsides; but the birds' songs have
The holiness gone from the bells.
This day unpromised is more dear
Than all the named days of the year
When seasonable sweets come in,
Because now we know how lucky we are.
| Title |
March the Third
|
|---|---|
| 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 |
Here again (she said) is March the third
|
| Publication source |
Edward Thomas Collected Poems
|
| Publication editor |
Thomas, George
|
| Publishers |
Faber and Faber
|
| Publication place |
London
|
Collection
Citation
“March the Third,” 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 3, 2024, http://ww1lit.nsms.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/collections/item/2911.
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
