“ I lay awake listening to the rain, and at first it was as pleasant to my ear and my mind as it had long been desired; but before I fell asleep it had become a majestic and finally a terrible thing, instead of a sweet sound and symbol. It was accusing and trying me and passing judgment. Long I lay still under the sentence, listening to the rain, and then at last listening to words which seemed to be spoken by a ghostly double beside me. He was muttering: The allnight rain puts out summer like a torch. In the heavy, black rain falling straight from invisible, dark sky to invisible, dark earth the heat of summer is annihilated, the splendour is dead, the summer is gone. The midnight rain buries it away where it has buried all sound but its own. I am alone in the dark still night, and my ear listens to the rain piping in the gutters and roaring softly in the trees of the world. Even so will the rain fall darkly upon the grass over the grave when my ears can hear it no more… The summer is gone, and never can it return. There will never be any summer any more, and I am weary of everything… I am alone. The truth is that the rain falls for ever and I am melting into it. Black and monotonously sounding is the midnight and solitude of the rain. In a little while or in an age – for it is all one – I shall know the full truth of the words I used to love, I knew not why, in my days of nature, in the days before the rain: ‘Blessed are the dead that the rain rains on. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 1.1K
“ One truly ought to enter upon sleep as into a strange, fair chapel. Fragrant and melodious antechamber of the unseen, sleep is a novitiate for the beyond. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 3.9K
“ The all-night rain puts out summer like a torch. In the heavy, black rain falling straight from invisible, dark sky to invisible, dark earth the heat of summer is annihilated, the splendour is dead, the summer is gone. The midnight rain buries it away where it has buried all sound but its own… ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 1.6K
“ The fairest things have fleetest end,/ Their scent survives their close:/ But the rose's scent is bitterness/ To him that loved the rose! ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 2.7K
“ The simple lack of her is more to me than others presence. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 782
“ There is not any book/ Or face of dearest look/ That I would not turn from now/ To go into the unknown/ I must enter, and leave, alone,/ I know not how. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 517
“ The simple lack of her is more to me than others presence. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 3.6K
“ One truly ought to enter upon sleep as into a strange, fair chapel. Fragrant and melodious antechamber of the unseen, sleep is a novitiate for the beyond. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 1.5K
“ There is not any book/ Or face of dearest look/ That I would not turn from now/ To go into the unknown/ I must enter, and leave, alone,/ I know not how. ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 1.8K
“ The fairest things have fleetest end,/ Their scent survives their close:/ But the rose's scent is bitterness/ To him that loved the rose! ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 1.7K
“ The fairest things have fleetest end,/ Their scent survives their close:/ But the rose's scent is bitterness/ To him that loved the rose! ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 3K
“ The house is still and silent, and those small noises that make me start are only the imagination of the spirit or they are the rain. There is only the rain for it to feed on and to crawl in. The rain swallows it up as the sea does its own foam. I will lie still and stretch out my body and close my eyes… ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
- 1.6K
“ The all-night rain puts out summer like a torch. In the heavy, black rain falling straight from invisible, dark sky to invisible, dark earth the heat of summer is annihilated, the splendour is dead, the summer is gone. The midnight rain buries it away where it has buried all sound but its own… ”
- Edward Thomas- Copy
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