Poetry · Chapters
Chapters explained
Chapter companions for Poetry by Edward Thomas.
Chapter 1
The Trumpet
A dawn call to rise and awaken, urging listeners to forget earthly concerns and embrace the newborn beauty of the morning, as the trumpet's sound chases away dreams and scatters the dew left by lovers.
Chapter 2
The Sign-Post
At a hilltop sign-post, the speaker reads the sign and hears two voices—one recalling the certainty of youth, the other mocking regret. They debate the passage of time and the inevitability of death, concluding that any heaven would be flawed if it denied the freedom to wish, and that standing anywhere on earth at any age, talking with anyone, is enough.
Chapter 3
Tears
The speaker reflects on a profound emotional numbness, recalling two vivid memories: a hunt in Blooming Meadow and a serene April morning in a Tower courtyard where soldiers and music revealed forgotten truths.
Chapter 4
Two Pewits
Under the after-sunset sky, two pewits sport and cry, their contrasting white and black forms moving between earth and sky, while the moon rides silently and the earth rests. The speaker, a ghostly observer, wonders at their merriment and lack of choice between the two realms.
Chapter 5
The Manor Farm
The speaker describes a winter landscape that begins to thaw, but the earth remains dormant. Upon arriving at the old Manor Farm, they find a scene of timeless stillness: the church, yew-tree, and farmhouse all sleep in a Sunday silence. The only sounds are a solitary fly and the swishing tails of drowsy cart-horses. The winter appears to have absorbed the essence of all seasons, creating a blissful, unchanging moment that has lain undisturbed for ages, evoking the ancient, merry England of old.
Chapter 6
The Owl
The speaker descends from a hill, finding warmth and rest at an inn, but the melancholy cry of an owl reminds him of the suffering of soldiers and the poor who cannot share his comfort.
Chapter 7
Swedes
The poem contrasts the uncovering of a swede pile in winter with the discovery of a Pharaoh's tomb, finding the humble agricultural scene more tender and gorgeous than ancient treasures. The swedes, with their curled fronds of white, gold, and purple, are revealed by the removal of a clay roof, and the sight is described as a dream of Winter as sweet as Spring.
Chapter 8
Will You Come?
A lyrical invitation to a beloved to ride together under the night sky, with the speaker urging haste as darkness falls and owls cry, blending romantic longing with a sense of urgency.
Chapter 9
As the Team’s Head-Brass
A speaker sits on a fallen elm tree in a field, watching a ploughman work and engaging in intermittent conversation about the weather and the war. The ploughman reveals that a mate was killed in France, and the talk reflects on how the war has changed everything. The lovers who disappeared into the wood reappear, and the speaker watches the plough continue its work.
Chapter 10
Thaw
A brief poem observing the early signs of spring as the snow melts, rooks call from treetops, and winter's end becomes visible from above though hidden from those on the ground.
Chapter 11
Interval
The poem describes a moment of transition between a wild day and a wilder night, focusing on the landscape of a rain-soaked road, a beech-wood, and a woodman's cot that remains indifferent to the storm. The speaker reflects on the permanence of the cottage against his own transient existence, as he will eventually roam, die, and forget this scene.
Chapter 12
Like the Touch of Rain
The speaker reflects on a fleeting, rain-like encounter with a woman that brought sudden joy and a sense of stormy passion, only to be ended abruptly by her command to leave, closing a door that can never reopen.
Chapter 13
The Path
The poem describes a hidden path alongside a road, used by children for play and exploration, contrasting their imaginative engagement with the adults' more practical use of the road. The path winds through the wood, inviting a sense of legend and desire, but ultimately ends abruptly where the wood ends.
Chapter 14
The Combe
The poem describes a dark, ancient combe (a valley or hollow) that is overgrown and inaccessible, sealed off from light and most birdsong. Its primal darkness has deepened since the killing of a badger, described as the most ancient Briton of English beasts, dug out and given to hounds.
Chapter 15
If I Should Ever by Chance
The speaker dreams of acquiring several estates and leasing them to his elder daughter in exchange for the first flowers of spring, with the possibility of giving them to her outright if she finds a blossom on the furze.
Chapter 16
What Shall I Give?
The speaker reflects on what to give his younger daughter, concluding that material wealth and land would not enrich her more than the simple, natural world she already inhabits. He chooses to leave her with her own small world and self, rather than burden her with possessions.
Chapter 17
If I Were to Own
The speaker imagines owning a vast countryside with many named estates and features, and considers giving them all to his son in exchange for a single blackbird's song at dawn. The fantasy turns dark as he envisions shooting all the blackbirds, leaving himself old and alone, and then needing to pay rent with a song as sweet as a blackbird's or lose the house.
Chapter 18
And You, Helen
The speaker reflects on what they would give to Helen if they possessed infinite wealth and choice, offering youth, truth, clarity, lands, waters, flowers, wine, children, and a better art. Ultimately, they wish to return to Helen her own self and the power to discern her desires in time, along with fair days and a resilient heart, and even themselves if they could find where their own self lies hidden and it proved kind.
Chapter 19
When First
The speaker reflects on the loss of hope after twelve years in a place that once promised discovery and renewal. Walking the hill for the last time, they acknowledge that hope has permanently departed, though they recognize that love can grow through time and necessity, and that parting stirs the heart more than meeting.
Chapter 20
Head and Bottle
A man drinks in a cart as the sun sets, becoming utterly still and detached from the world around him, his focus solely on the bottle until he is as quiet as the tree trunks in the yard.
Chapter 21
After You Speak
The speaker reflects on the profound and complex meaning behind a loved one's words, finding a deeper, darker wisdom in their presence. The poem uses the metaphor of a lark's flight to explore themes of love, desire, and the fleeting nature of connection.
Chapter 22
Sowing
The speaker reflects on a perfect day for sowing seeds, savoring the tranquil hour between the owl's first cry and the first star. After completing the task, the speaker welcomes the gentle rain as a tender farewell.
Chapter 23
When We Two Walked
The speaker reflects on a past walk during Lent with a companion, contrasting their quiet, hidden happiness with the proud, ostentatious love of gods like Juno and Jupiter. They suggest that their humility and discretion allowed them to escape divine jealousy, preserving the memory of their happiness.
Chapter 24
In Memoriam (Easter, 1915)
The poem reflects on flowers left in the wood at Easter, which evoke thoughts of soldiers far from home who will never again gather flowers with their sweethearts.
Chapter 25
Fifty Faggots
The speaker observes fifty stacked faggots from a copse, reflecting on their past as living underwood and their future as firewood. He imagines the nests birds will build in them next spring, but notes that this spring is already past. The faggots will fuel several winters' fires, and by the time they are consumed, the war will have ended, along with many other things beyond his control.
Chapter 26
Women He Liked
The poem reflects on Bob Hayward, an old farmer who loved women, horses, and especially trees. He planted elms along a lane that later became known as Bob's Lane. After his death, the lane fell into disrepair, and only the name remains.
Chapter 27
Early One Morning
The speaker sets out alone on a May morning, leaving behind letters and mended socks, feeling both liberated and melancholic. The journey is marked by sensory details—a brook, a banging gate, a shepherd's greeting—and a reflection on the past as a sweet but dead thing. The refrain 'bound away for ever' underscores a sense of permanent departure from youth, love, and misery.
Chapter 28
The Cherry Trees
A brief, melancholic poem describing cherry trees shedding their petals on an old road, likening the scene to a wedding with no one to wed, evoking themes of loss and the passage of time.
Chapter 29
It Rains
The speaker walks alone in a rain-soaked orchard, finding a paradoxical happiness in solitude while mourning the loss of a shared past. The rain and the ghostly parsley flower evoke memories of a lover, and the speaker acknowledges that such joy can never be recaptured except in solitary reflection.
Chapter 30
The Huckster
A brief portrait of a huckster, physically deformed and poor, yet joyful as he drives a cart with his wife on a fine May morning, laughing despite his hardships.
Chapter 31
A Gentleman
The chapter presents contrasting views of a man who has robbed two clubs. A stranger condemns him as a scoundrel and lady-killer deserving hanging, while a Gipsy woman defends him as a true gentleman, recalling his generosity, kindness to her family, and his gentle nature.
Chapter 32
The Bridge
The speaker stands alone on a strange bridge at night, reflecting on the friends and memories left behind. The stream below drowns both past and future, offering a brief, blessed moment of rest between two lives, where what has never been seems more beautiful than what was or will be.
Chapter 33
Lob
The speaker recalls meeting an old man while traveling in Wiltshire, whose face and words linger in memory. Years later, he returns to the villages and asks about the man, receiving conflicting identities—Bottlesford, Jack Button, Old Adam Walker—until a squire's son suggests he is Lob, a timeless, wandering figure of English folklore. The poem traces Lob's many incarnations across history and legend, from a pedlar to Herne the Hunter to Jack the Giant-Killer, asserting that he lives on, undying, as long as England endures.
Chapter 34
Bright Clouds
A brief, atmospheric poem describing bright May clouds shadowing a pond, with tall reeds like bayonets and a bird's call that goes unheeded. The wind drifts may-blossom scum until a moorhen calls, emphasizing a sense of futility and the relentless fall of blossom.
Chapter 35
The Clouds That Are So Light
The speaker reflects on how light, beautiful clouds cast shadows on the dark earth, drawing a parallel to how a radiant beloved leaves a deeper mark on a dark heart. The shadow itself becomes a measure of beauty, suggesting that contrast and darkness enhance worth.
Chapter 36
Some Eyes Condemn
The speaker reflects on the varied ways eyes perceive the world—some condemning, some patient, some laughing—before turning to the beloved's eyes, which burned him with their flame, leaving him speechless.
Chapter 37
May 23
On a perfect May day, the speaker encounters Old Jack Noman, who appears jaunty and weathered, offering wildflowers and cresses for free. The day is marked by a brief thunderstorm that seems to bless its beauty, and the speaker finds joy in the season despite midges and dust. The chapter ends with the mysterious disappearance of Jack Noman.
Chapter 38
The Glory
The speaker reflects on the overwhelming beauty of a morning landscape, feeling both inspired and scorned by the gap between nature's perfection and human limitation. The poem questions whether to seek wisdom or strength to match this beauty, or to accept discontent as part of existence, ultimately confronting the swift passage of time.
Chapter 39
Melancholy
The speaker describes a stormy day of rain and wind that brings fever and melancholy, yet also a strange sweetness. They find solitude preferable to company, and their despair only deepens the sweetness as they hear a distant cuckoo, soft water sounds, and remote rumors of past events touching friends and foes.
Chapter 40
Adlestrop
The speaker recalls a moment during a train journey in late June when the express train made an unscheduled stop at Adlestrop station. In the stillness, he observes the quiet platform, the surrounding countryside, and hears a blackbird singing, which seems to echo across the landscape.
Chapter 41
The Green Roads
A reflective poem describing green roads leading into a forest, marked by white goose feathers, an old man, a child, and a thrush's persistent song. The speaker contemplates memory and loss, noting that even the ancient oak has forgotten the past, while only the speaker seems to remember.
Chapter 42
The Mill-Pond
A vivid memory of a stormy day at the mill-pond, where a girl in white warns the speaker to take care, sparking a moment of anger that later transforms into a lasting appreciation of her beauty and kindness.
Chapter 43
It Was Upon
The speaker recalls a July evening when he stood at a stile and a wandering stranger commented on the fine 'lattermath' (second growth of grass). Twenty years later, the speaker reflects on that moment and the unfulfilled promise of the future, now that those fields are lost to him.
Chapter 44
Tall Nettles
The speaker reflects on a corner of the farmyard where tall nettles have overtaken old, rusted farming tools. He expresses a deep appreciation for the nettles and the dust upon them, which only a shower can wash away, revealing a simple, enduring beauty.
Chapter 45
Haymaking
After a distant night's thunder, a perfect, cool-kerneled day dawns. The landscape is described in vivid detail: a smooth white road strewn with leaves, mill-foot water tumbling like joyful children, and thickets alive with birdsong. Haymakers rest in a field, their tools and team idle in the shade of trees. The scene is timeless, evoking a sense of immortality and continuity beyond the lives of the men, beasts, and implements.
Chapter 46
How at Once
The speaker reflects on the fleeting nature of a specific view of a swift in the harvest sky, recognizing that while the swift's return is reliably annual, other experiences vanish suddenly and are only recognized as gone after they have passed.
Chapter 47
Gone, Gone Again
The speaker reflects on the passage of time as months slip by unnoticed, drawing a parallel between the decaying orchard and an abandoned house. The war's devastation is recalled, transforming young men into 'dung.' The old house stands empty and broken, yet the speaker, though similarly worn, remains alive and observant.
Chapter 48
The Sun Used to Shine
The speaker recalls peaceful pre-war walks with a companion, where they ignored the future and past, focusing instead on small natural details. The distant war intrudes only at moonrise, but the memory of those walks now fades like everything else under the tide of time.
Chapter 49
October
The speaker observes the rich, transitional beauty of an October landscape—golden elm leaves falling, mushrooms, harebells, and gorse—and reflects on the paradox of feeling melancholy in such loveliness, yet anticipates that someday this very day will be remembered as happy.
Chapter 50
The Long Small Room
The speaker reflects on a small, narrow room with willows visible in the west and a fireplace at the end. He recalls how he liked the room, though no one knew why it was built that way. Only the moon, mouse, and sparrow witnessed the events within, and they will keep the tale for the ivy and brick. Looking back, the speaker feels like those witnesses, unable to understand or alter what happened. The one constant is his right hand, crawling like a crab over the page each morning, moving slowly toward age as the last leaves stream upon the willow.
Chapter 51
Liberty
The speaker reflects on a moonlit night, feeling isolated and contemplating the nature of freedom and constraint. They muse on the past, the burden of idleness, and a paradoxical love for imperfection and earthly life.
Chapter 52
November
The poem reflects on the month of November, describing its dirty earth and the beauty found in paths marked by animals and birds. It contrasts the muddy, scorned ground with the clean, clear skies, and explores two perspectives: one seeking refuge above the mud in heavenly light, and another loving the earth and November more dearly because the mud's sacrifice of brightness gives the sky its purity.
Chapter 53
The Sheiling
The poem describes a solitary sheiling (a shelter or hut) set in a rugged, stony landscape. The interior is delicate and warm, created by human care, while the exterior is shaped by the wild elements. The house and the land are in a reciprocal, kind relationship, with the stone accepting the house into its cold heart.
Chapter 54
The Gallows
A poem describing various animals—a weasel, a crow, and a magpie—that have been killed and hung on a dead oak tree bough by a keeper, where they swing endlessly in the elements, devoid of sensation or sin.
Chapter 55
Birds' Nests
The speaker reflects on discovering birds' nests after autumn leaves have fallen, feeling a slight shame for having missed them earlier. The nests, now exposed, are seen as marks of life and growth, with some deep-hid nests revealing signs of past habitation and natural renewal.
Chapter 56
Rain
The speaker lies in a bleak hut at midnight, listening to the wild rain and reflecting on mortality, solitude, and the dissolution of earthly loves. The rain becomes a cleansing force, washing the speaker cleaner than birth, and prompts a meditation on death as a perfect, undisappointing end. The speaker prays for no loved one to be dying or awake in sympathetic pain, feeling like a cold water among broken reeds, with only the love of death remaining.
Chapter 57
Home
The speaker reflects on the paradox of home as an unseen, unreachable place, acknowledging a deep grief for a land never visited. They accept that return is impossible and choose to wait, enduring present discomfort rather than chasing an illusory past.
Chapter 58
There's Nothing Like the Sun
The speaker reflects on the unique and irreplaceable quality of sunlight in each month of the year, emphasizing that no day's sun is like another, and that this appreciation continues until death.
Chapter 59
When He Should Laugh
A brief poem contrasting the wise man's discernment in laughter with the even greater wisdom of knowing when to laugh or refrain alongside fools.
Chapter 60
An Old Song
The speaker reflects on a Lincolnshire song that has accompanied him through life, from youthful trespassing in the countryside to later years of quiet contentment and solitary musing. The song becomes a touchstone for joy, sorrow, and a strange, enduring delight.
Chapter 61
The Penny Whistle
A winter landscape under a new moon is contrasted with the vibrant caravan-hut and the first signs of spring. A girl reads a letter while her brother plays a nursery melody on a whistle, expressing more than words can convey.
Chapter 62
Lights Out
The speaker describes approaching the borders of sleep, a deep forest where all paths blur and all must lose their way. Love, despair, ambition, pleasure, and trouble all end in a sleep sweeter than any noble task. The speaker turns away from books and dear faces to enter the unknown alone, obeying the silence of the towering forest.
Chapter 63
Cock-Crow
The poem describes the moment of dawn when the crowing of two cocks cuts through the darkness, heralding the arrival of light and the start of the day's work, as milkers prepare at the farms.
Chapter 64
Words
The narrator visits The White Horse, a remote inn hidden among beeches, and converses with the wild girl who works there. She expresses her hatred for the inn's signboard, which once blew down repeatedly in the wind, and her deep attachment to the wild, isolated place where she was born and intends to die. She recounts the inn's history—how it was once a smithy, and how her great-uncle, a timber sawyer, married the widow blacksmith, leading to her own birth. The chapter explores themes of wildness versus civilization, belonging, and the desire for both rootedness and escape.
Chapter 65
Words
The narrator visits The White Horse, a remote inn hidden among beeches, and converses with the wild girl who works there. She expresses her hatred for the inn's signboard, which once blew down repeatedly in the wind, and her deep attachment to the wild, isolated place where she was born and intends to die. She recounts the inn's history—how it was once a smithy, and how her great-uncle, a timber sawyer, married the widow blacksmith, leading to her own birth. The chapter explores themes of wildness versus civilization, belonging, and the desire for both rootedness and escape.
Chapter 66
I Never Saw That Land Before
The speaker reflects on a fleeting encounter with an unfamiliar landscape, feeling a deep, inexplicable affection for its details—valley, river, cattle, ash trees, and farmsteads. Though the land is seen only once and never again, the experience touches a hidden goal within the soul, suggesting a language of nature that remains secret except to those attuned to its whispers.
Chapter 67
The Dark Forest
A poem contrasting the dark, deep forest with the bright, open fields, emphasizing the separation between those who dwell inside the forest and those who ride outside, and the impossibility of communication between them.
Chapter 68
Celandine
The speaker reflects on a lost beloved, whose memory is initially painful, but the sight of celandine flowers in the sun revives her vividly for a moment. The joy is fleeting, as the speaker realizes the flowers are not real and she is gone forever.
Chapter 69
The Ash Grove
The speaker finds unexpected tranquility in a half-dead ash grove, where the sparse shade and brief walk bring a joy without cause. The grove's peace, unmolested by memory or fear, later recurs in memory as a ghostly gladness, like a distant song of love uncrossed, unveiling a moment of desire fulfilled without effort or cost.
Chapter 70
Old Man
The speaker reflects on the herb known as 'Old Man' or 'Lad's-love,' its names both decorating and perplexing its essence. He dislikes the scent yet cherishes it for its elusive connection to memory, watching a child who clips the bush without words. The speaker tries in vain to recall what the bitter scent evokes, sensing a lost memory that remains just out of reach, leaving only a dark, nameless avenue.
Chapter 71
The Thrush
The speaker observes a thrush singing in November and reflects on the difference between the bird's timeless perception of seasons and human awareness of time, memory, and the cycle of life and death.
Chapter 72
I Built Myself a House of Glass
The speaker reflects on constructing a magnificent but isolating house of glass, a metaphor for a carefully built yet fragile life. Pride in the creation gives way to a desire for it to be broken, but the structure's perfection prevents any neighbor from casting a stone, leaving the speaker alone in their transparent prison.
Chapter 73
February Afternoon
The poem reflects on the timelessness of nature and war, observing starlings and rooks in a February field, and contemplating how human conflict and divine indifference persist unchanged across millennia.
Chapter 74
Digging
The speaker reflects on the sensory experience of digging, focusing on the scents released from the earth and the act of turning soil, while a robin sings songs of autumn.
Chapter 75
Two Houses
The poem contrasts a pleasant, sunlit farmhouse with an older, haunted house nearby, where the past lingers and the dead are never fully hidden.
Chapter 76
The Mill-Water
The poem reflects on the remnants of an old mill, where only the sound of water remains after the wheel has ceased. By night, the sound becomes a haunting companion to solitude, shaping thoughts and emotions.
Chapter 77
A Dream
The narrator dreams of walking with an old friend over familiar fields, only to encounter a strange, bright stream bursting from a mountain's heart. The dark waters run a short course under the sun before plunging into a black pit. The narrator becomes so absorbed in the sight that he forgets his companion, and upon waking, he reflects on the possibility of returning to that place.
Chapter 78
Sedge-Warblers
The speaker reflects on a fleeting dream of a lost, idyllic past inhabited by a divine feminine beauty, only to renounce the dream and find deeper contentment in the immediate, natural world—specifically the clear water and the unmelodious, repetitive song of the sedge-warblers, which he values above human art.
Chapter 79
Under the Woods
A meditation on the passage of time in the woods, contrasting the vibrant past when thrushes sang and the woods were young with the present silence and decay after the old keeper's death, leaving only a faded stoat skin as a remnant.
Chapter 80
What Will They Do?
The speaker reflects on their own insignificance and the world's indifference to their absence, using the metaphor of rain that sustains flowers and grass yet does not need them. A moment of doubt arises when the speaker wonders if they might have nourished something priceless in others, only to be dismissed by a careless laugh.
Chapter 81
To-Night
A brief, intimate poem about a nighttime meeting in Castle Alley, where the speaker plans to arrive early and sit close with Kate, hidden from view, rejecting artificial and natural light in favor of their own company.
Chapter 82
A Cat
The chapter reflects on a cat that was owned but unloved, locked out at night, and whose kittens were drowned. Despite this, the cat thrived in spring by preying on songbirds, which the speaker loathed. The cat lived a long life until death finally brought her rest.
Chapter 83
The Unknown
The poem reflects on an elusive, unnamed woman who captivates poets and travelers alike. Her absence is more significant than the presence of others, and the speaker contemplates her possible existence and the longing she inspires.
Chapter 84
Song
The poet reflects on a bittersweet love where his tears and sighs are met with laughter, yet he cannot imagine life without her, and she professes love until death.
Chapter 85
She Dotes
A woman obsessively listens to the birds, interpreting their songs as messages about her lost lover. She laughs and cries at their indifference, yet believes they hold secrets and chide her for thinking death can separate her from her beloved. She even tries to translate the cuckoo's call to its mate, seeking connection across the divide of death.
Chapter 86
For These
The speaker describes a modest, idealized piece of land between shore and hills, with a house, garden, and water source, and asks fate not for these material things but for contentment and the ability to be satisfied with what is given.
Chapter 87
March the Third
The speaker reflects on March the third as a special, unnamed day of prolonged bird song from dawn to dusk, comparing the blending of church bells and birdsong to the holiness of nature, and cherishing the unpromised gift of this day above all named days.
Chapter 88
The New House
The speaker enters a new house and immediately feels a profound sense of age and foreboding. The wind's moan evokes a dread of future storms, mist, and griefs both old and new, as if the house itself already knows what is to come.
Chapter 89
March
The speaker reflects on a harsh late winter day, enduring hail and cold, yet finding hope in the sun's brief warmth and the thrushes' urgent singing at dusk. Though Spring is promised, it has not yet arrived, and the speaker is left in a silence that echoes the songs of the hour, suggesting patience and the certainty of renewal.
Chapter 90
The Cuckoo
The speaker reflects on their inability to hear the cuckoo's call, which has been replaced by the memory of a dying man's shout. The loss of hearing becomes a metaphor for how grief and death can overwrite even the most familiar sounds of nature.
Chapter 91
Over the Hills
The speaker reflects on a past journey over a horizon ridge into a new country, recalling the path, the harvest evening, and a kind inn full of strangers. A year later, while digging, the memory returns vividly, but the speaker realizes that recall is futile, comparing it to a brook that cannot flow backward up a waterfall.
Chapter 92
Home
The speaker reflects on the paradox of home as an unseen, unreachable place, acknowledging a deep grief for a land never visited. They accept that return is impossible and choose to wait, enduring present discomfort rather than chasing an illusory past.
Chapter 93
The Hollow Wood
The poem describes a hollow wood where a goldfinch flits above the thistle-tops, birds swim like fish below, and the trees are kept evergreen by lichen, ivy, and moss, with some trees half-flayed and dying.
Chapter 94
Wind and Mist
A conversation at a gateway overlooking a vast landscape reveals a man's bitter experience living in a house shrouded in mist and wind, where isolation and harsh realities like flint, clay, and childbirth overshadowed the idyllic view. He confesses he would try the house again, much like he would try being young again.
Chapter 95
The Unknown Bird
The speaker recalls a mysterious bird whose three lovely notes he alone could hear in the beech-wood during May and June, years ago. Despite many listeners, no one else ever heard it, and the bird never returned. The memory of its haunting, bodiless sweet song still brings him lightness, transcending past suffering.
Chapter 96
The Lofty Sky
The speaker expresses a yearning for the open sky and high hills, away from the confines of woods and hedges, feeling trapped like a fish in muddy waters and longing to rise above.
Chapter 97
After Rain
After a prolonged rain, the speaker observes the transformed landscape at dawn. The sun peers through a pale, choked day, revealing a new purple border along the road, fallen leaves scattered like little black fish, and twelve yellow apples hanging on a crab-tree. As the rain begins again, the scene is covered in uncountable crystals of water.
Chapter 98
Digging
The speaker reflects on the sensory experience of digging, focusing on the scents released from the earth and the act of turning soil, while a robin sings songs of autumn.
Chapter 99
But These Things Also
The poem reflects on the subtle signs of early spring that coexist with lingering winter, highlighting overlooked details like dead grass, snail shells, flint, chalk, and bird droppings that a man might mistake for violets. It captures the tension between the arrival of spring and the persistence of winter, with starlings chattering in the mist.
Chapter 100
April
The speaker reflects on the sweetness of April's first smile after mist, but now finds a sweeter moment in Emily's tearful return to ask forgiveness for an unknown wrong, carried to an isle lovelier than April itself.
Chapter 101
The Barn
The speaker reflects on an old barn built under an elm tree, now decaying and soon to be abandoned. The barn's history and its current state mirror the speaker's own aging and obsolescence, as the once-vibrant life of starlings gives way to lesser creatures.
Chapter 102
The Barn and the Down
The poem explores the optical illusion between a barn and a distant down (hill), where the barn appears as massive as the hill until closer inspection reveals its true scale, and then the down reasserts its grandeur. The speaker reflects on how perception shifts with distance and perspective, and how the barn is avenged when a few steps transform it back into the down.
Chapter 103
The Child on the Cliffs
A child on a cliff speaks to his mother about the strange brightness of the day, the grasshopper, and a distant bell he hears from the sea. He imagines lying dead under the foam, still able to hear the bell, and finding happiness in his mother's visits.
Chapter 104
Good Night
The speaker reflects on the sounds of the town at night, contrasting the distant songs of skylarks and nightingales with the prevailing noise of human activity. Yet the call of children in unfamiliar streets brings a magical welcome, making the speaker feel like a king among all beings. Despite being homeless and unknown, the town feels friendly, and the speaker bids a traveler's good night to all, acknowledging that this moment may never come again.
Chapter 105
The Wasp Trap
The poem reflects on how moonlight transforms an ordinary wasp trap into something of extraordinary beauty, surpassing even the loveliest natural scenes and stars. The jar, once meant for wasps, now hangs glistening from a dead apple bough like a star.
Chapter 106
July
The speaker drifts in a boat on a glassy lake under the July heat, observing clouds, reflections, and the stillness of nature. The only movement comes from the speaker's own actions, and the sounds of ring-doves fill the mind with contentment, making thought unnecessary.
Chapter 107
A Tale
The poem reflects on the remnants of a ruined cottage, where periwinkle and fragments of blue plates serve as silent storytellers of a forgotten past.
Chapter 108
Parting
The speaker reflects on the nature of the Past as a strange, immutable land where pain and pleasure lose their sting, and memory transforms past sorrow into a kind of bliss. This double-edged memory makes the act of parting doubly painful—both for the separation itself and for the unresolved past it resurrects.
Chapter 109
Lovers
Two men, George and Jack, are startled by the sudden appearance of lovers emerging from a wood. The woman's striking contrast of white skin and black hair catches their attention, and they debate the man's intentions, noting he is unarmed. The woman runs off, prompting a reflection on the act of picking may blossoms.
Chapter 110
That Girl's Clear Eyes
The speaker reflects on a girl whose clear eyes conceal everything, yet hint at something hidden. The speaker compares their own eyes to a seal that will not be broken until after death. The chapter describes a morning where everyone remains silent despite many words, sealed like tombs. The speaker admits that all they cared for was the pleasure and pain experienced in a stony sunlit square, dark cloisters, or shade of plane trees, while music blazed and children marched past, hiding the year 'Seventeen Thirty-Nine.'
Chapter 111
The Child in the Orchard
A child in an orchard observes an old white horse and reflects on the vastness of the world, questioning nursery rhymes and local legends while expressing an insatiable desire to learn.
Chapter 112
The Source
The chapter describes a day and night where the air dominates with the voices of wind and rain, overwhelming the earth's futile attempts to absorb the downpour. Eventually, the river's source breaks forth, overpowering the storm with a triumphant, earthy roar.
Chapter 113
The Mountain Chapel
A remote mountain chapel and its graveyard, hidden from the noise of life, are described. The only sounds are the wind and the occasional singing of men, creating a place that feels almost inhabited yet profoundly isolated. The wind's eternal voice contrasts with the brevity of human life, and the chapel's homely size and wild garden suggest a possible happiness for a certain man or even a god, though the wind's ancient presence would unsettle even divine beings.
Chapter 114
First Known When Lost
The speaker reflects on a narrow copse that went unnoticed until it was cut down, revealing a small brook's source. The loss brings a new awareness of what was always present but unseen.
Chapter 115
The Word
The speaker reflects on forgotten memories, including names of great figures and personal losses, yet one name persists—a word sung by a thrush each spring that cannot be forgotten, heard clearly amid the scents of elder and wild rose.
Chapter 116
These Things That Poets Said
The speaker reflects on the nature of love and poetry, questioning whether the love described by poets is true or if their own experience of love was the genuine one. They argue that the proof of having loved lies in the difference they feel now that they no longer love.
Chapter 117
Home
The speaker reflects on the paradox of home as an unseen, unreachable place, acknowledging a deep grief for a land never visited. They accept that return is impossible and choose to wait, enduring present discomfort rather than chasing an illusory past.
Chapter 118
Aspens
The poem reflects on the persistent whispering of aspens at a crossroads, contrasting their ceaseless sound with the now-silent human activities of the smithy and inn, and meditates on the inevitability of grief and the enduring nature of the trees.
Chapter 119
An Old Song
The speaker reflects on a Lincolnshire song that has accompanied him through life, from youthful trespassing in the countryside to later years of quiet contentment and solitary musing. The song becomes a touchstone for joy, sorrow, and a strange, enduring delight.
Chapter 120
There Was a Time
The speaker reflects on a past when he was whole and youthful, acknowledging that he never fully embraced his joy because it fell short of his grand ambitions. He admits to having sought pity while hating it, and now, when he could use his youth and strength for a worthy cause, he denies his current weakness and age, refusing to accept that he is unworthy of the sacrifice demanded of a man who gives everything for something beyond himself.
Chapter 121
Ambition
The speaker reflects on a moment of pure ambition, triggered by a March morning after frost. Observing jackdaws, a woodpecker, and a train's cloud bower, the speaker feels omnipotent and timeless, yet the vision dissolves, leaving uncertainty about ambition's true object.
Chapter 122
No One Cares Less Than I
The speaker reflects on a bugle call heard at dawn, interpreting its notes with words of indifference and fatalism, yet acknowledges that the bugles themselves are indifferent to human meaning.
Chapter 123
Roads
The speaker reflects on the enduring and mystical nature of roads, personifying them as goddesses that persist beyond human memory. Roads are depicted as lonely yet eternal, leading through landscapes that shift between heaven and hell. The poem introduces Helen, a figure from Welsh mythology and the Mabinogion, who dwells in trees and roadside companies. Her laughter is heard in the thrush's song and the rooster's call. The final stanza turns to war, noting that all roads now lead to France, where the living tread heavily while the dead dance lightly, keeping the speaker company and crowding the solitude.
Chapter 124
This Is No Case of Petty Right or Wrong
The speaker rejects simplistic patriotic or political judgments about war, expressing a complex love for England that transcends jingoism and acknowledges the nation's deep, almost sacred, connection to its people and history.
Chapter 125
The Chalk-Pit
Two speakers discuss a disused chalk-pit that has become an amphitheater-like dell, haunted by memory and absence. One speaker feels the place is full of a life just withdrawn, while the other recalls a man who used to search for birds' nests there and a woman who sometimes shared his walks. The dialogue explores the tension between imagination and truth, and the mystery bred by silence and stillness.
Chapter 126
Health
The speaker reflects on the paradox of health: while the eye can leap four miles across the landscape with ease, the body can barely leap four yards. Imagining perfect health brings a sense of glory, yet the speaker realizes that even with it, desire would outstrip any power, and contentment would remain elusive. The beauty of spring and the contrast between the bird's simple joy and the sun's indifference highlight the speaker's unique capacity to love both, despite physical limitation.
Chapter 127
Beauty
The speaker grapples with a mood of tiredness and anger, feeling unable to be pleased by anyone. Yet, in a sudden shift, a part of his heart escapes to a tranquil vale, finding rest and beauty there like a dove homing to love.
Chapter 128
Snow
In the silent, white gloom of a snowy scene, a child mourns the killing of a white bird on its nest, watching the down fall through the dusky brightness.
Chapter 129
The New Year
The speaker encounters an old man raking leaves in the woods on a stormy New Year's morning. The man's bent posture is initially mistaken for a tripod, but he straightens to exchange a gruff New Year's greeting before returning to his work.
Chapter 130
The Brook
The speaker sits by a brook, watching a child paddle, and becomes absorbed in the natural scene—the blackbird, thrush, butterfly, and stream. The child's remark that no one has been there before articulates a feeling of timelessness and newness that the speaker could not express.
Chapter 131
The Other
The speaker recounts a haunting pursuit of a doppelgänger after emerging from a forest into a village inn, where others mistake him for someone else. The search becomes an obsessive quest for self-knowledge, leading through inns, solitude, and a moment of serene clarity under the night sky. The encounter finally occurs in a tap-room, but the speaker retreats in silence, now following the other with dread and inevitability until the end.
Chapter 132
House and Man
The speaker recalls a man and his isolated house, which stands alone in the forest. The man's presence is ghost-like and weary, and the memory is triggered by the sight of a magpie veering in doubt.
Chapter 133
The Gypsy
The narrator encounters a Gypsy woman and her brother at a Christmas fair, giving them tobacco and witnessing the boy's lively music. The encounter leaves a lasting impression, evoking a sense of mystery and otherworldliness as the narrator reflects on the Gypsy's wild, dark eyes and the haunting tune 'Over the hills and far away.'
Chapter 134
Man and Dog
An old man, a former navvy and soldier, walks ten miles toward Alton with his small, useless dog, reflecting on his past labors and his three sons fighting in the war. The speaker bids him goodnight, and the man and dog disappear into the twilight wood.
Chapter 135
A Private
A ploughman who died in battle is remembered for his simple, secret life. He slept outdoors under a hawthorn bush in Wiltshire, and now lies secretly buried in France.
Chapter 136
Out in the Dark
The speaker describes a night scene in the snow, where fawns and a doe move invisibly, and the dark itself seems to hunt. The speaker, stars, wind, and deer are together in the darkness, feeling both near and far, with fear drumming in the ear. The poem contrasts the weakness of light, love, and delight against the might of night, suggesting that only love can overcome its power.
Chapter 137
The Lane
The speaker reflects on Green Lane in Froxfield, a place where September hides in bracken and blackberries, and where the present moment blends the qualities of spring, summer, and winter. The lane becomes a space outside of time, ending only when the lane itself ends.
Chapter 138
The Watchers
A quiet scene at the edge of town where a carter rests by the ford, smoking on the bridge and watching the water around his horse's chest. Inside an inn, another observer watches from a cold room filled with stuffed fish, vermin, and kingfishers.
Chapter 139
Endnotes
A brief note indicating the author's birthday.
