1. |
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As The Clouds That Are So Light,
D7 Gm Cm
As the clouds that are so light,
Bb Cm Gm
Beautiful, swift, and bright,
F Gm
Cast shadows on field and park
F D7
Of the earth that is so dark,
Cm F
And even so now, light one!
Eb Bb Cm
Beautiful, swift and bright one!
F Cm
You let fall on a heart that was dark,
Bb Eb D7
Unillumined, a deeper mark.
Gm Dm
But clouds would have, without earth
Gm Dm
To shadow, far less worth:
Cm Bb
Away from your shadow on me
Cm Gm
Your beauty less would be,
[as per verse 1]
And if it still be treasured
An age hence, it shall be measured
By this small dark spot
Without which it were not.
Edward Thomas
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2. |
March (Edward Thomas)
03:57
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March - Poem by Edward Thomas
Em
Now I know that Spring will come again,
C A9
Perhaps to-morrow: however late I've patience
D Em D Em
After this night following on such a day.
Bm/E Am7
While still my temples ached from the cold burning
C
Of hail and wind, and still the primroses
Em
Torn by the hail were covered up in it,
D Em
The sun filled earth and heaven with a great light
And a tenderness, almost warmth, where the hail dripped,
As if the mighty sun wept tears of joy.
But 'twas too late for warmth. The sunset piled
Mountains on mountains of snow and ice in the west:
Somewhere among their folds the wind was lost,
And yet 'twas cold, and though I knew that Spring
Would come again, I knew it had not come,
That it was lost too in those mountains chill.
What did the thrushes know? Rain, snow, sleet, hail,
Had kept them quiet as the primroses.
They had but an hour to sing. On boughs they sang,
On gates, on ground; they sang while they changed perches
And while they fought, if they remembered to fight:
So earnest were they to pack into that hour
Their unwilling hoard of song before the moon
Grew brighter than the clouds. Then 'twas no time
For singing merely. So they could keep off silence
And night, they cared not what they sang or screamed;
Whether 'twas hoarse or sweet or fierce or soft;
And to me all was sweet: they could do no wrong.
Something they knew- I also, while they sang
And after. Not till night had half its stars
And never a cloud, was I aware of silence
Stained with all that hour's songs, a silence
Saying that Spring returns, perhaps to-morrow.
Edward Thomas
Em: 0xxx00 - 0xxx07 - 0xxx05 - 0xxx03
C: x3xx10
A9: x0xx57
D: x5777x
Bm/E: 0xx432
Am7: x0201x
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3. |
Home (Edward Thomas)
06:45
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Home 2
A* Dm
Fair was the morning, fair our tempers, and
A* A** Dm
We had seen nothing fairer than that land,
D7 Am
Though strange, and the untrodden snow that made
D6 Am
Wild of the tame, casting out all that was
Gm A7
Not wild and rustic and old; and we were glad.
Dm A7
Fair too was afternoon, and first to pass
Dm A7
Were we that league of snow, next the north wind.
There was nothing to return for, except need,
And yet we sang nor ever stopped for speed,
As we did often with the start behind.
Faster still strode we when we came in sight
Of the cold roofs where we must spend the night.
Happy we had not been there, nor could be,
Though we had tasted sleep and food and fellowship
Together long.
'How quick', to someone's lip
The words came, 'will the beaten horse run home!'
The word 'home' raised a smile in us all three,
And one repeated it, smiling just so
That all knew what he meant and none would say.
Between three counties far apart that lay
We were divided and looked strangely each
At the other, and we knew we were not friends
But fellows in a union that ends
With the necessity for it, as it ought.
Dm A7
Never a word was spoken, not a thought
Dm
Was thought, of what the look meant with the word
A7
'Home' as we walked and watched the sunset blurred.
G Dm
And then to me the word, only the word,
C Dm A7
'Homesick', as it were playfully occurred:
No more.
If I should ever more admit
Than the mere word I could not endure it
For a day longer: this captivity
Must somehow come to an end, else I should be
Another man, as often now I seem,
Or this life be only an evil dream.
Edward Thomas
A*: x0x986
Dm: xx0765
A** x0x985
D7: xx0768
D6: xx0767
Am: x0x555
Gm xx5333
A7: x0202x
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4. |
Home (Edward Thomas)
03:46
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Home
E* Bm
Not the end: but there's nothing more.
A Bm
Sweet Summer and Winter rude
E Bm
I have loved, and friendship and love,
A Bm
The crowd and solitude:
Dm Am
But I know them: I weary not;
Dm Am
But all that they mean I know.
G Am
I would go back again home
G E7
Now. Yet how should I go?
This is my grief. That land,
My home, I have never seen;
No traveller tells of it,
However far he has been.
And could I discover it,
I fear my happiness there,
Or my pain, might be dreams of return
Here, to these things that were.
Remembering ills, though slight
Yet irremediable,
Brings a worse, an impurer pang
Than remembering what was well.
No: I cannot go back,
And would not if I could.
Until blindness come, I must wait
And blink at what is not good.
Edward Thomas
E*: x7567x
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5. |
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For These
F Am Gm C
An acre of land between the shore and the hills,
F C Gm Bb
Upon a ledge that shows my kingdoms three,
Am Gm Am Gm
The lovely visible earth and sky and sea
F C Gm C
Where what the curlew needs not, the farmer tills:
Gm F C Gm
A house that shall love me as I love it,
C Gm F C
Well-hedged, and honoured by a few ash trees
Gm F C Gm
That linnets, greenfinches, and goldfinches
Bb F C
Shall often visit and make love in and flit:
A garden I need never go beyond,
Broken but neat, whose sunflowers every one
Are fit to be the sign of the Rising Sun:
A spring, a brook's bend, or at least a pond:
For these I ask not, but, neither too late
Nor yet too early, for what men call content,
And also that something may be sent
To be contented with, I ask of Fate.
Edward Thomas :
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6. |
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The Hollow Wood
A1 A2 A3 A4
Out in the sun the goldfinch flits
Bm F#m G
Along the thistle-tops, flits and twits
D A
Above the hollow wood
A1 Bm
Where birds swim like fish -
Em A
Fish that laugh and shriek -
Em F#m
To and fro, far below
Em A Bm
In the pale hollow wood.
Lichen, ivy, and moss
Keep evergreen the trees
That stand half-flayed and dying,
And the dead trees on their knees
In dog's-mercury and moss:
And the bright twit of the goldfinch drops
Down there as he flits on thistle-tops.
Edward Thomas
A1: x0525x
A2: x0425x
A3: x0325x
A4: x0225x
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7. |
It Rains (Edward Thomas)
03:16
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It Rains
Em D Em D
It rains, and nothing stirs within the fence
Am G
Anywhere through the orchard's untrodden, dense
Bm A
Forest of parsley. The great diamonds
E D C G
Of rain on the grass-blades there is none to break,
F#m Bm F#m
Or the fallen petals further down to shake.
And I am nearly as happy as possible
To search the wilderness in vain though well,
To think of two walking, kissing there,
Drenched, yet forgetting the kisses of the rain:
Sad, too, to think that never, never again,
Unless alone, so happy shall I walk
In the rain. When I turn away, on its fine stalk
Twilight has fined to naught, the parsley flower
Figures, suspended still and ghostly white,
The past hovering as it revisits the light.
Edward Thomas
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8. |
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The Ash Grove
A1 A2 Bm C#m
Half of the grove stood dead, and those that yet lived made
F#m C#m Bm
Little more than the dead ones made of shade.
A1 A2 Bm C#m
If they led to a house, long before they had seen its fall:
F#m C#m Bm
But they welcomed me; I was glad without cause and delayed.
D A Em A
Scarce a hundred paces under the trees was the interval -
C#m D Bm
Paces each sweeter than the sweetest miles - but nothing at all,
F#m Bm F#m Bm
Not even the spirits of memory and fear with restless wing,
Em A Bm
Could climb down in to molest me over the wall
That I passed through at either end without noticing.
And now an ash grove far from those hills can bring
The same tranquillity in which I wander a ghost
With a ghostly gladness, as if I heard a girl sing
The song of the Ash Grove soft as love uncrossed,
And then in a crowd or in distance it were lost,
But the moment unveiled something unwilling to die
And I had what I most desired, without search or desert or cost.
Edward Thomas
A1: x0565x
A2: x0567x
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9. |
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The Stranger
Canadian
Am D
The Stranger within my gate,
Am - G Am
He may be true or kind,
D Am
But he does not talk my talk--
G Am
I cannot feel his mind.
F E7
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
Am - G Am
But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wanted to,
They are used to the lies I tell;
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy or sell.
The Stranger within my gates,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control--
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.
The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.
This was my father's belief
And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf--
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children's teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.
Rudyard Kipling
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10. |
The Darkness
03:09
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The Darkness
Am G
Starved for so long
E7
I forgot the taste of sweetness
Am G
Through my dry lips
F
The sound of laughter
Am
And the texture of another's skin
Yet I still lived
Battened beneath the mantle of dispassion
With a hard ceramic shell of ivory
To keep emotions like raindrops
Pattering softly before they slipped away
G F#
Shall I let you glimpse inside?
Bm A
To see the spoiled good beneath the shine
Em Bm
Risking all for that distant dream
F#m
of what they call Love
E
which might bring only destruction
Let's move slowly
Like blinded beggars on a moonlit path
careful not to add new injuries to old
But holding hands firmly clasped
To see where the darkness leads
27.2.17
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Toby Darling Penang, Malaysia
Amateur enthusiast.
Feel free to do anything you want with these tracks, I am not interested in making money from music.
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