This summer, while I was in England, I finally went to Adlestrop, subject of the wonderful poem by Edward Thomas. There's no station now--just an old station bench as a memorial, with the poem inscribed on a little metal plate. Poem and Pic below!
Also check out this interesting recent article about Edward Thomas and Robert Frost that appeared in The Guardian:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011...-thomas-poetry
Adlestrop
Edward Thomas
Yes. I remember Adlestrop –
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop – only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/attachment.php?attachmentid=561&stc=1&d=1312397673[/IMG]stc=1&d=1312397673[/IMG]