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The Combe
By Edward Thomas.
Edward Thomas was born in 1878 and died in 1917. He wrote many poems, essays and short stories.
Edward Thomas may have written this poem after a badger was dug out from its sett in a combe, and killed by badger baiters. Many years have passed since then, but sadly, badgers are still being dug out and killed by badger baiters today.
To find out more about Edward Thomas, visit the Edward Thomas Fellowship website. To read more of his poems, click here.The combe was ever dark, ancient and dark.
Its mouth is stopped with bramble, thorn and briar,
And no-one scrambles over the sliding chalk
By beech and yew and perishing juniper
Down the half precipices of its sides, with roots
And rabbit holes for steps. The sun of winter
The moon of summer, and all the singing birds
Except the missel-thrush that loves the juniper
Are quite shut out. But far more ancient and dark
The Combe looks since they killed the badger there,
Dug him out and gave him to the hounds,
The most ancient Briton of English beasts.
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