Welcome back to The Daily Poem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network. I'm David Kern.

Today's poem is by Dylan Thomas. He lived from 1914 to 1953. And the poem that I'm going to read today

is called Fern Hill. This poem is dedicated to Jill, who is one of our listeners. Jill mentioned this poem

and how much she likes it. And so I told her, it had been on my short list, and it was time to move

it forward up to the active roster, so to speak. So here is Fern Hill by Dylan Thomas. This poem was

composed in 1945 and published in 1946. And it goes like

this. Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs about the lilton house and happy as the

grass was green. The night above the dingle starry, time let me hail and climb golden in the heydays of his eyes. And honored among

wagons I was Prince of the Appletowns, and once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves trail

with daisies and barley down the rivers of the windfall light. And as I was green and carefree,

famous among the barns, about the happy yard and singing as the farm was home, in the sun that is young once only, time let me play and be golden in the mercy of his means. And green and golden I was huntsmen and herdsmen. The calves sang to my horn. The foxes on the hills barked clear and cold, and the Sabbath

rang slowly in the pebbles of the holy streams. All the sun long it was running. It was lovely,

the hayfields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys. It was air and playing, lovely and watery and fire green as grass.

And nightly under the simple stars as I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away.

All the moon-long I heard, blessed among stables, the night jars flying with the ricks,

and the horses flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white with the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder.

It was all shining. It was Adam and maiden. The sky gathered again, and the sun grew round

that very day, so it must have been after the

birth of the simple light in the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm out

of the waning green stable onto the fields of praise, and honored among foxes and pheasants

by the gay house under the new-made clouds and happy as the heart was long.

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