First World War Poetry Digital Archive

How at Once

THE SWIFTS by EDWARD THOMAS

How at once should I know, When stretched in the harvest blue I saw the swift's black bow, That I would not have that view Another day Until next May Again it is due?

The same year after year--- But with the swift alone. With other things I but fear That they will be over and done Suddenly And I only see Them to know them gone.

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