Poem by Edward Thomas

Tall Nettles

TALL nettles cover up, as they have done
These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough
Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:
Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.

This corner of the farmyard I like most:
As well as any bloom upon a flower
I like the dust on the nettles, never lost
Except to prove the sweetness of a shower. 

1. Women He Liked
2. When We Two Walked
3. Bright Clouds
4. What Shall I Give?
5. Some Eyes Condemn

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