Xlvii: For My Funeral Poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Xlvii: For My Funeral
O thou that from thy mansion
Through time and place to roam,
Dost send abroad thy children,
And then dost call them home,
That men and tribes and nations
And all thy hand hath made
May shelter them from sunshine
In thine eternal shade:
We now to peace and darkness
And earth and thee restore
Thy creature that thou madest
And wilt cast forth no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/19/2024 2:41:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
That men and tribes and nations And all thy hand hath made May shelter them from sunshine In thine eternal shade: Thinking of the eternal experience. tony