How at Once

How at once should I know,
When stretched in the harvest blue
I saw the swift's black bow,
That I would not have that view
Another day
Until next May
Again it is due?
The same year after year--
But with the swift alone.
With other things I but fear
That they will be over and done
Suddenly
And I only see
Them to know them gone.

About Edward Thomas

Anglo-Welsh poet and essayist killed in WWI. His nature poetry captures the English landscape with quiet, precise observation.

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