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. The Sun Used to Shine
2. The Green Roads
3. The Mill-Pond
4. Bright Clouds
5. Melancholy

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