"Easter Monday" is Eleanor Farjeon's lament for her friend Edward Thomas, a fellow poet who was killed on a French battlefield during World War I. The poem's speaker—a stand-in for Farjeon herself—remembers sending her soldier friend a "silver Easter egg" hidden in a box of apples, little knowing that his thank-you note for the present would be the last letter she'd get from him. The poem reflects on the sudden shock of grief, but also hints at Christian consolation in its images of Easter and springy new life. Farjeon wrote this poem not long after Thomas died in 1917, but didn't collect it until 1947, when it appeared in her book First & Second Love.
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1In the last letter that I had from France
2You thanked me for the silver Easter egg
3Which I had hidden in the box of apples
4You liked to munch beyond all other fruit.
5You found the egg the Monday before Easter,
6And said, "I will praise Easter Monday now—
7It was such a lovely morning." Then you spoke
8Of the coming battle and said, "This is the eve.
9Good-bye. And may I have a letter soon."
10That Easter Monday was a day for praise,
11It was such a lovely morning. In our garden
12We sowed our earliest seeds, and in the orchard
13The apple-bud was ripe. It was the eve.
14There are three letters that you will not get.
1In the last letter that I had from France
2You thanked me for the silver Easter egg
3Which I had hidden in the box of apples
4You liked to munch beyond all other fruit.
5You found the egg the Monday before Easter,
6And said, "I will praise Easter Monday now—
7It was such a lovely morning." Then you spoke
8Of the coming battle and said, "This is the eve.
9Good-bye. And may I have a letter soon."
10That Easter Monday was a day for praise,
11It was such a lovely morning. In our garden
12We sowed our earliest seeds, and in the orchard
13The apple-bud was ripe. It was the eve.
14There are three letters that you will not get.
In the last letter that I had from France
You thanked me for the silver Easter egg
Which I had hidden in the box of apples
You liked to munch beyond all other fruit.
You found the egg the Monday before Easter,
And said, "I will praise Easter Monday now—
It was such a lovely morning." Then you spoke
Of the coming battle and said, "This is the eve.
Good-bye. And may I have a letter soon."
That Easter Monday was a day for praise,
It was such a lovely morning. In our garden
We sowed our earliest seeds, and in the orchard
The apple-bud was ripe. It was the eve.
There are three letters that you will not get.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
A Brief Biography — Learn more about Eleanor Farjeon's life and work via the Poetry Foundation.
The Real "E. T." — See a portrait of Edward Thomas (the "E. T." to whom this poem is dedicated) once owned by Farjeon.
Farjeon and Thomas — Read a short, heartbreaking article about Eleanor Farjeon's relationship with Edward Thomas—and her grief over his death.
The Poem Aloud — Listen to a reading of the poem.