Consequently I shalln't be able to participate in a formal event being celebrated by the Friends of Dymock Poets on Tuesday. A hundred years ago on that day the poet Edward Thomas was on his way to meet Robert Frost when his train drew up "unwontedly" at Adlestrop, prompting the penning of what has to be one of the best loved poems in the English language. I have always enjoyed it and have made a pilgrimage to the village on more than one occasion (the station no longer exists but the station name plate is preserved in the bus shelter). A couple of years ago I read "Now All Roads Lead To France", the wonderful biography of Thomas written by Matthew Hollis, and I have started reading much more of the poetry since. So even though I can't be at the commemoration in person, I shall definitely be there with "all the birds of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire" in spirit.
Adlestrop
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| Edward Thomas |
Yes, I remember Adlestrop --
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed.
Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
Edward Thomas
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