Poem by Edward Thomas

* * *

I built myself a house of glass:
It took my years to make it:
And I was proud. But now, alas!
Would God someone would break it.

But it looks too magnificent.
No neighbour casts a stone
From where he dwells, in tenement
Or palace of glass, alone. 

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

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