Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

The Isle of Portland


The star-filled seas are smooth to-night
From France to England strown;
Black towers above the Portland light
The felon-quarried stone.

On yonder island, not to rise,
Never to stir forth free,
Far from his folk a dead lad lies
That once was friends with me.

Lie you easy, dream you light,
And sleep you fast for aye;
And luckier may you find the night
Than ever you found the day.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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