A E Housman
The True Lover
The lad came to the door at night, When lovers crown their vows, And whistled soft and out of sight In shadow of the boughs. “I shall not vex you with my face Henceforth,
Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come
Shot? So Quick, So Clean an Ending?
Shot? so quick, so clean an ending? Oh that was right, lad, that was brave: Yours was not an ill for mending, ‘Twas best to take it to the grave. Oh you had forethought,
Into My Heart an Air that Kills
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
Diffugere Nives (Horace, Odes 4.7)
The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws And grasses in the mead renew their birth, The river to the river-bed withdraws, And altered is the fashion of the earth. The Nymphs and
The Isle Of Portland
The star-filled seas are smooth tonight From France to England strown; Black towers above Portland light The felon-quarried stone. On yonder island; not to rise, Never to stir forth free, Far from his folk
Far In a Western Brookland
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
In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad
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
March
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
Oh Stay At Home, My Lad
Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough The land and not the sea, And leave the soldiers at their drill, And all about the idle hill Shepherd your sheep with me. Oh stay
In Valleys of Springs and Rivers
“Clunton and Clunbury, Clungunford and Clun, Are the quietest places Under the sun.” In valleys of springs and rivers, By Ony and Teme and Clun, The country for easy livers, The quietest under the
I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded
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
Farewell to Barn and Stack and Tree
“Farewell to barn and stack and tree, Farewell to Severn shore. Terence, look your last at me, For I come home no more. “The sun burns on the half-mown hill, By now the blood
The rainy Pleiads wester
The rainy Pleiads wester, Orion plunges prone, The stroke of midnight ceases And I lie down alone. The rainy Pleiads wester, And seek beyond the sea The head that I shall dream of That
Is My Team Ploughing
“Is my team ploughing, That I was used to drive And hear the harness jingle When I was man alive?” Ay, the horses trample, The harness jingles now; No change though you lie under