Not much to me is yonder lane
Where I go every day;
But when there's been a shower of rain
And hedge-birds whistle gay,
I know my lad that's out in France
With fearsome things to see
Would give his eyes for just one glance
At our white hawthorn tree.
* * * * *
Not much to me is yonder lane
Where he so longs to tread;
But when there's been a shower of rain
I think I'll never weep again
Until I've heard he's dead.
I am busy working to bring Siegfried Sassoon's "The Hawthorn Tree" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Siegfried Sassoon's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "The Hawthorn Tree" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
Want to join the discussion? Reopen or create a unique username to comment. No personal details required!
Comments
No comments yet. Be the first to comment!