Preface to "Fern Hill"

I have always found this lilting, lyrical poem, so full of poignant visions of childhood, the richness of earth and the life-joy of animals to be the very most delightfully refreshing reminiscence poem I've ever known.      Upon hearing a recording of poet Dylan Thomas reading "Fern Hill", I was appalled that such a great poet could fail to know that he was only a mediocre vocal interpreter of his own piece.  I subsequently rendered a splendiferous recording of this poem myself.  No brag.  Just fact.      Thomas did however, write a truly great poem, and I gladly share it for your enjoyment.

BUNI

F E R N    H I L L by Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting 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 honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns 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 huntsman and herdsman, 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 hay Fields 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 nightjars   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 whinnying green stable    On to the fields of praise. And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,   In the sun born over and over,    I ran my heedless ways,   My wishes raced through the house high hay And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs   Before the children green and golden    Follow him out of grace. Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,   In the moon that is always rising,    Nor that riding to sleep   I should hear him fly with the high fields And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land. Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,    Time held me green and dying   Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

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