First World War Poetry Digital Archive


The skylarks are far behind that sang over the down; I can hear no more those suburb nightingales; Thrushes and blackbirds sing in the gardens of the town In vain: the noise of man, beast, and machine prevails.

But the call of children in the unfamiliar streets That echo with a familiar twilight echoing, Sweet as the voice of nightingale or lark, completes A magic of strange welcome, so that I seem a king

Among man, beast, machine, bird, child, and the ghost That in the echo lives and with the echo dies. The friendless town is friendly; homeless, I am not lost; Though I know none of these doors, and meet but strangers' eyes.

Never again, perhaps, after tomorrow, shall I see these homely streets, these church windows alight, Not a man or woman or child among them all: But it is All Friends' Night, a traveller's good night.

Author Thomas, Edward (1878-1917)
Title Good-Night
Item Date 1979
Repository name ProQuest
Copyright Copyright Edward Thomas, 1979, reproduced under licence from Faber and Faber Ltd.
Digital repository The First World War Poetry Digital Archive
Reference URL