First World War Poetry Digital Archive

Head and Bottle

HEAD AND BOTTLE by EDWARD THOMAS

The downs will lose the sun, white alyssum Lose the bees' hum; But head and bottle tilted back in the cart Will never part Till I am cold as midnight and all my hours Are beeless flowers. He neither sees, nor hears, nor smells, nor thinks, But only drinks, Quiet in the yard where tree trunks do not lie More quietly.

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