One hour: as dim he and his house now look As a reflection in a rippling brook, While I remember him; but first, his house. Empty it sounded. It was dark with forest boughs That brushed the walls and made the mossy tiles Part of the squirrels' track. In all those miles Of forest silence and forest murmur, only One house - 'Lonely!' he said, 'I wish it were lonely' - Which the trees looked upon from every side, And that was his. He waved good-bye to hide A sigh that he converted to a laugh. He seemed to hang rather than stand there, half Ghost-like, half like a beggar's rag, clean wrung And useless on the brier where it has hung Long years a-washing by sun and wind and rain. But why I call back man and house again Is there now a beech-tree's tip I see As then I saw - I at the gate, and he In the house darkness, - magpie veering about, A magpie like a weathercock in doubt.
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), "House and man" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Elaine Hugh-Jones (b. 1927), "House and man", 2007 [voice and piano], from Strange Journey: Songs of Edward Thomas, no. 3. [text not verified]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2012-09-09
Line count: 21
Word count: 174