It Was Upon
IT WAS UPON [SONNET 5] by EDWARD THOMAS
It was upon a July evening. At a stile I stood, looking along a path Over the country by a second Spring Drenched perfect green again. 'The lattermath Will be a fine one.' So the stranger said, A wandering man. Albeit I stood at rest, Flushed with desire I was. The earth outspread, Like meadows of the future, I possessed.
And as an unaccomplished prophecy The stranger's words, after the interval Of a score years, when those fields are by me Never to be recrossed, now I recall, This July eve, and question, wondering, What of the lattermath to this hoar Spring?
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|Author||Thomas, Edward (1878-1917)|
|Title||It Was Upon|
|Copyright||Copyright Edward Thomas, 1979, reproduced under licence from Faber and Faber Ltd.|
|First line||It was upon a July evening.|
|Publication source||Edward Thomas Collected Poems|
|Publication editor||Thomas, George|
|Publishers||Faber and Faber|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|