Alfred Edward Housman Poems

<i>Horace, Odes, iv, 7</i>

The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws
And grasses in the mead renew their birth,
...

You smile upon your friend to-day,
To-day his ills are over;
You hearken to the lover's say,
And happy is the lover.
...

"Terence, this is stupid stuff!
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
...

From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.
...

"Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.
...

Could man be drunk for ever
With liquor, love, or fights,
Lief should I rouse at morning
And lief lie down of nights.
...

In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
...

With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a rose-lipt maiden
And many a lightfoot lad.
...

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.
...

Tell me not here, it needs not saying,
What tune the enchantress plays
In aftermaths of soft September
Or under blanching mays,
...