Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

Alfred Edward Housman Poems

1. Xxvi: Good Creatures Do You Love Your Lives 1/28/2014
2. Xx: The Night Is Freezing Fast 1/28/2014
3. Xvii: The Stars Have Not Dealt Me The Worst They Could Do 1/28/2014
4. Xl: Farewell To A Name And Number 1/28/2014
5. Xxxix: Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town 1/28/2014
6. Hell's Gate 6/26/2015
7. When The Eye Of Day Is Shut 11/18/2015
8. Her Strong Enchantments Failing 11/25/2015
9. Soldier from the wars returning 1/7/2016
10. Revolution 2/5/2016
11. Xvi: Spring Morning 1/28/2014
12. Xxi: The World Goes None The Lamer 1/28/2014
13. Xvii: Astronomy 1/28/2014
14. Xxxvi: Revolution 1/28/2014
15. Xxxv: When First My Way To Fair I Took 1/28/2014
16. Xix: The Mill Stream Now That Noises Cease 1/28/2014
17. Xii: An Epitaph 1/28/2014
18. Xxviii: Now Dreary Dawns The Eastern Light 1/28/2014
19. Xxii: The Sloe Was Lost In Flower 1/28/2014
20. Vi: Lancer 1/28/2014
21. Xxiii: Crossing Alone The Nighted Ferry 1/28/2014
22. Xxxii: When I Would Muse In Boyhood 1/28/2014
23. The Nonsense Verse 1/28/2014
24. Xviii: The Rain It Streams On Stone And Hillock 1/28/2014
25. Xv: 'Tis Five Years Since, An End Said I 1/28/2014
26. Xxii: R L S 1/28/2014
27. I: Easter Hymn 12/17/2014
28. A Shropshire Lad, Ii 2/18/2015
29. Xlvii: For My Funeral 1/28/2014
30. Lx: Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black 1/28/2014
31. Goodnight 11/28/2014
32. Xii: He Would Not Stay With Me And Who Can Wonder 1/28/2014
33. Xvi: How Clear, How Lovely Bright 1/28/2014
34. Xxvi: The Half-Moon Westers Low My Love 1/28/2014
35. When I Came Last To Ludlow 1/3/2003
36. Westward On The High-Hilled Plains 1/3/2003
37. This Time Of Year A Twelvemonth Past 1/3/2003
38. Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town 1/3/2003
39. Oh, See How Thick The Goldcup Flowers 1/3/2003
40. The Isle Of Portland 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Alfred Edward Housman

Here Dead We Lie

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.

Read the full of Here Dead We Lie

Reveille

Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.

Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
Straws the sky-pavilioned land.

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