Now Hollow Fires Burn Out to Black poem – Alfred Edward Housman
Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack, And leave your friends and go. Oh never fear, man, nought’s to dread, Look not to left nor right: In all the endless road you tread There’s nothing but the night. Alfred Edward HousemanAlfred Edward Housman […]
March poem – A. E. Housman
The Sun at noon to higher air, Unharnessing the silver Pair That late before his chariot swam, Rides on the gold wool of the Ram. So braver notes the storm-cock sings To start the rusted wheel of things, And brutes in field and brutes in pen Leap that the world goes round again. The boys […]
March poem – A. E. Housman
The Sun at noon to higher air, Unharnessing the silver Pair That late before his chariot swam, Rides on the gold wool of the Ram. So braver notes the storm-cock sings To start the rusted wheel of things, And brutes in field and brutes in pen Leap that the world goes round again. The boys […]
Look not in my eyes, for fear poem – A. E. Housman
Look not in my eyes, for fear Thy mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me. One the long nights through must lie Spent in star-defeated sighs, But why should you as well as I Perish? gaze not in my eyes. […]
Loitering with a Vacant Eye poem – A. E. Housman
Loitering with a vacant eye Along the Grecian gallery, And brooding on my heavy ill, I met a statue standing still. Still in marble stone stood he, And stedfastly he looked at me. “Well met,” I thought the look would say, “We both were fashioned far away; We neither knew, when we were young, These […]
Loitering with a Vacant Eye poem – A. E. Housman
Loitering with a vacant eye Along the Grecian gallery, And brooding on my heavy ill, I met a statue standing still. Still in marble stone stood he, And stedfastly he looked at me. “Well met,” I thought the look would say, “We both were fashioned far away; We neither knew, when we were young, These […]
It Nods and Curtseys and Recovers poem – A. E. Housman
It nods and curtseys and recovers When the wind blows above, The nettle on the graves of lovers That hanged themselves for love. The nettle nods, the wind blows over, The man, he does not move, The lover of the grave, the lover That hanged himself for love. Alfred Edward HousemanAlfred Edward Housman (1859-1936) […]
Into My Heart an Air that Kills poem – A. E. Housman
Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those? That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, The happy highways where I went And cannot come again. Alfred Edward HousemanAlfred Edward Housman (1859-1936) was an […]
In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad poem – A. E. Housman
In my own shire, if I was sad, Homely comforters I had: The earth, because my heart was sore, Sorrowed for the son she bore; And standing hills, long to remain, Shared their short-lived comrade’s pain. And bound for the same bourn as I, On every road I wandered by, Trod beside me, close and […]
In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad poem – A. E. Housman
In my own shire, if I was sad, Homely comforters I had: The earth, because my heart was sore, Sorrowed for the son she bore; And standing hills, long to remain, Shared their short-lived comrade’s pain. And bound for the same bourn as I, On every road I wandered by, Trod beside me, close and […]
If Truth in Hearts That Perish poem – A. E. Housman
If truth in hearts that perish Could move the powers on high, I think the love I bear you Should make you not to die. Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning, If single thought could save, The world might end to-morrow, You should not see the grave. This long and sure-set liking, This boundless will to […]
If By Chance Your Eye Offend You poem – A. E. Housman
If by chance your eye offend you, Pluck it out, lad, and be sound: ‘Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you, And many a balsam grows on ground. And if your hand or foot offend you, Cut it off, lad, and be whole; But play the man, stand up and end you, When […]
If By Chance Your Eye Offend You poem – A. E. Housman
If by chance your eye offend you, Pluck it out, lad, and be sound: ‘Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you, And many a balsam grows on ground. And if your hand or foot offend you, Cut it off, lad, and be whole; But play the man, stand up and end you, When […]
I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded poem – A. E. Housman
I hoed and trenched and weeded, And took the flowers to fair: I brought them home unheeded; The hue was not the wear. So up and down I sow them For lads like me to find, When I shall lie below them, A dead man out of mind. Some seed the birds devour, And some […]
I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded poem – A. E. Housman
I hoed and trenched and weeded, And took the flowers to fair: I brought them home unheeded; The hue was not the wear. So up and down I sow them For lads like me to find, When I shall lie below them, A dead man out of mind. Some seed the birds devour, And some […]
Hughley Steeple poem – A. E. Housman
LXI The vane on Hughley steeple Veers bright, a far-known sign, And there lie Hughley people, And there lie friends of mine. Tall in their midst the tower Divides the shade and sun, And the clock strikes the hour And tells the time to none. To south the headstones cluster, The sunny mounds lie […]
Hughley Steeple poem – A. E. Housman
LXI The vane on Hughley steeple Veers bright, a far-known sign, And there lie Hughley people, And there lie friends of mine. Tall in their midst the tower Divides the shade and sun, And the clock strikes the hour And tells the time to none. To south the headstones cluster, The sunny mounds lie […]
Ho, everyone that thirsteth poem – A. E. Housman
Ho, everyone that thirsteth And hath the price to give, Come to the stolen waters, Drink and your soul shall live. Come to the stolen waters, And leap the guarded pale, And pull the flower in season Before desire shall fail. It shall not last for ever, No more than earth and skies; But he […]
Ho, everyone that thirsteth poem – A. E. Housman
Ho, everyone that thirsteth And hath the price to give, Come to the stolen waters, Drink and your soul shall live. Come to the stolen waters, And leap the guarded pale, And pull the flower in season Before desire shall fail. It shall not last for ever, No more than earth and skies; But he […]
Here Dead We Lie poem – A. E. Housman
Here dead we lie Because we did not choose To live and shame the land From which we sprung. Life, to be sure, Is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, And we were young. Alfred Edward HousemanAlfred Edward Housman (1859-1936) was an English classical scholar and poet. His cycle of […]
From Far, From Eve and Morning poem – A. E. Housman
From far, from eve and morning And yon twelve-winded sky, The stuff of life to knit me Blew hither: here am I. Now– for a breath I tarry Nor yet disperse apart– Take my hand quick and tell me, What have you in your heart. Speak now, and I will answer; How shall I help […]
From Far, From Eve and Morning poem – A. E. Housman
From far, from eve and morning And yon twelve-winded sky, The stuff of life to knit me Blew hither: here am I. Now– for a breath I tarry Nor yet disperse apart– Take my hand quick and tell me, What have you in your heart. Speak now, and I will answer; How shall I help […]
Fragment of a Greek Tragedy poem – A. E. Housman
CHORUS: O suitably-attired-in-leather-boots Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom Whence by what way how purposed art thou come To this well-nightingaled vicinity? My object in inquiring is to know. But if you happen to be deaf and dumb And do not understand a word I say, Then wave your hand, to signify as much. […]
Far In a Western Brookland poem – Alfred Edward Housman
Far in a western brookland That bred me long ago The poplars stand and tremble By pools I used to know. There, in the windless night-time, The wanderer, marvelling why, Halts on the bridge to hearken How soft the poplars sigh. He hears: no more remembered In fields where I was known, Here I lie […]
Far In a Western Brookland poem – Alfred Edward Housman
Far in a western brookland That bred me long ago The poplars stand and tremble By pools I used to know. There, in the windless night-time, The wanderer, marvelling why, Halts on the bridge to hearken How soft the poplars sigh. He hears: no more remembered In fields where I was known, Here I lie […]
Epitaph On An Army of Mercenaries poem – A. E. Housman
These, in the day when heaven was falling, The hour when earth’s foundations fled, Followed their mercenary calling And took their wages and are dead. Their shoulders held the sky suspended; They stood, and earth’s foundations stay; What God abandoned, these defended, And saved the sum of things for pay. Alfred Edward HousemanAlfred Edward […]
Could Man Be Drunk Forever poem – A. E. Housman
Could man be drunk for ever With liquor, love, or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down of nights. But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts, And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts. Alfred Edward HousemanAlfred Edward Housman (1859-1936) was an […]
Bring, In This Timeless Grave To Throw poem – A. E. Housman
XLVI Bring, in this timeless grave to throw No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew His leaves that live December through; Break no rosemary, bright with rime And sparkling to the cruel crime; Nor plod the winter land to look For willows in the icy brook To cast them […]
Bredon Hill poem – A. E. Housman
In summertime on Bredon The bells they sound so clear; Round both the shires they ring them In steeples far and near, A happy noise to hear. Here of a Sunday morning My love and I would lie, And see the coloured counties, And hear the larks so high About us in the sky. The […]
As Through the Wild Green Hills of Wyre poem – A. E. Housman
As through the wild green hills of Wyre The train ran, changing sky and shire, And far behind, a fading crest, Low in the forsaken west Sank the high-reared head of Clee, My hand lay empty on my knee. Aching on my knee it lay: That morning half a shire away So many an honest […]
Along the field as we came poem – A. E. Housman
ALONG the field as we came by A year ago, my love and I, The aspen over stile and stone Was talking to itself alone. ‘Oh who are these that kiss and pass? A country lover and his lass; Two lovers looking to be wed; And time shall put them both to bed, But she […]
Winter – The Fourth Pastoral, or Daphne poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Lycidas. Thyrsis, the music of that murm’ring spring, Is not so mournful as the strains you sing. Nor rivers winding thro’ the vales below, So sweetly warble, or so smoothly flow. Now sleeping flocks on their soft fleeces […]
Vertumnus and Pomona : Ovid’s Metamorphoses, book 14 [v. 623-771] poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period The fair Pomona flourish’d in his reign; Of all the Virgins of the sylvan train, None taught the trees a nobler race to bear, Or more improv’d the vegetable care. To her the shady grove, the flow’ry field, […]
Verses Left by Mr. Pope poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period With no poetic ardour fir’d I press the bed where Wilmot lay; That here he lov’d, or here expir’d, Begets no numbers grave or gay. Beneath thy roof, Argyle, are bred Such thoughts as prompt the brave to […]
Translation of a Prayer of Brutus poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Goddess of woods, tremendous in the chase, To mountain wolves and all the savage race, Wide o’er the aerial vault extend thy sway, And o’er the infernal regions void of day. On thy third reign look down; disclose […]
To the Author of a Poem Entitled Succession poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Begone, ye Critics, and restrain your spite, Codrus writes on, and will for ever write, The heaviest Muse the swiftest course has gone, As clocks run fastest when most lead is on; What tho’ no bees around your […]
To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Oh be thou blest with all that Heav’n can send, Long Health, long Youth, long Pleasure, and a Friend: Not with those Toys the female world admire, Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire. With added years if […]
To Mr. Thomas Southern, on his Birth-Day poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Resign’d to live, prepar’d to die, With not one sin, but poetry, This day Tom’s fair account has run (Without a blot) to eighty-one. Kind Boyle, before his poet, lays A table, with a cloth of bays; And […]
To Lady Mary Wortley Montagu poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period I. In beauty, or wit, No mortal as yet To question your empire has dared: But men of discerning Have thought that in learning To yield to a lady was hard. II. Impertinent schools, With musty dull rules, […]
The Three Gentle Shepherds poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Of gentle Philips will I ever sing, With gentle Philips shall the valleys ring. My numbers too for ever will I vary, With gentle Budgell and with gentle Carey. Or if in ranging of the names I judge […]