Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

Alfred Edward Housman Poems

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

Comments about Alfred Edward Housman

  • Ted G (6/24/2018 8:58:00 AM)

    Not a poetry related question, but possibly someone here can help me. I seem to remember reading a short bit by Housman about seeing tears in his father's eyes for the first time upon seeing the black bordered newspaper the day Queen Victoria died. Am I attributing my memory to the wrong author?

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  • Ian K (7/23/2017 12:43:00 PM)

    The master of melancholy! Housman was in fact a rather embittered but brilliant academic and a homosexual at a time when it was not only illegal but something that had for most to remain repressed. I suppose therefore that this informs all his work and is fairly obvious, in hindsight, in some of the poems at least.

  • Jeanann Kerr (8/13/2013 8:19:00 PM)

    Does anyone know the title of Housman's poem cited in The Walkabout? It is a lovely poem but I can't find it in Bartlett's. Thanks. Ms. Kerr

  • Sankaran Ayya (2/2/2012 7:31:00 AM)

    poetry should appeal to emotions rather than to the intellect
    Housman's golden words, poetry writers should appreciate and follow
    as cardinal principle
    --KAVIN CHARALAN

  • Mark Adams (1/9/2012 6:05:00 PM)

    From a biography I read on Housman (I sorry I don't recall the title or author) , Housman was believed to have possibly been homosexual, and was suspected by some family members as being so. If this was truly the case, I believe it may put different light on the point of few of some of his poems.

  • Maria Gough (9/26/2006 11:41:00 AM)

    Thank you for your daily poem!

  • Richard Stivelman (6/17/2006 1:30:00 PM)

    Thanks for all the Housman. I believe, however, that you have a 'typo' in the poem 'Look Not In my Eyes'. I believe it shoud read '...for fear they (not 'thy') mirror true...'
    Best
    Dick Stivelman

  • Artie Thayer (10/4/2003 6:16:00 AM)

    Thank you for making this poem available. In the movie, Out of Africa, Karen Blitzen reads from a book of poems. The title is partially obliterated, but I could see Hous... and assumed Houseman. I was able to find it on your site. What a fine poem. Thanks again. - artie

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

The New Mistress

"Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be?
You may be good for something, but you are not good for me.
Oh, go where you are wanted, for you are not wanted here.
And that was all the farewell when I parted from my dear.

"I will go where I am wanted, to a lady born and bred
Who will dress me free for nothing in a uniform of red;
She will not be sick to see me if I only keep it clean:
I will go where I am wanted for a soldier of the Queen.

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