First World War Poetry Digital Archive

First Known when Lost

FIRST KNOWN WHEN LOST by EDWARD THOMAS

I never had noticed it until 'Twas gone,---the narrow copse Where now the woodman lops The last of the willows with his bill.

It was not more than a hedge o'ergrown. One meadow's breadth away I passed it day by day. Now the soil is bare as a bone,

And black betwixt two meadows green, Though fresh-cut faggot ends Of hazel made some amends With a gleam as if flowers they had been.

Strange it could have hidden so near! And now I see as I look That the small winding brook, A tributary's tributary rises there.

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