Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

Alfred Edward Housman Poems

81. A Shropshire Lad, Ii 2/18/2015
82. Shot? So Quick, So Clean An Ending? 1/3/2003
83. Tell Me Not Here, It Needs Not Saying 1/3/2003
84. The Laws Of God, The Laws Of Man 1/3/2003
85. 1887 1/3/2003
86. The Welsh Marches 1/3/2003
87. The Grizzly Bear 1/3/2003
88. The Immortal Part 1/3/2003
89. If Truth In Hearts That Perish 1/3/2003
90. Oh, When I Was In Love With You 1/3/2003
91. Epitaph On An Army Of Mercenaries 1/3/2003
92. I Hoed And Trenched And Weeded 1/3/2003
93. Diffugere Nives 1/3/2003
94. Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black 1/3/2003
95. On The Idle Hill Of Summer 1/3/2003
96. With Rue My Heart Is Laden 1/3/2003
97. Lx: Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black 1/28/2014
98. You Smile Upon Your Friend To-Day 1/3/2003
99. Into My Heart An Air That Kills 1/3/2003
100. Goodnight 11/28/2014
101. Others, I Am Not The First 1/3/2003
102. Could Man Be Drunk Forever 1/3/2003
103. Eight O'Clock 1/3/2003
104. Stars 1/3/2003
105. From Far, From Eve And Morning 1/3/2003
106. Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff 1/3/2003
107. The Carpenter's Son 1/3/2003
108. Along The Field As We Came By 12/31/2002
109. When I Was One-And-Twenty 1/3/2003
110. The Lent Lily 1/3/2003
111. Loveliest Of Trees, The Cherry Now 1/3/2003
112. Be Still, My Soul, Be Still 1/3/2003
113. Here Dead We Lie 12/24/2003
114. Is My Team Ploughing 1/3/2003
115. To An Athlete Dying Young 1/3/2003
116. Farewell To Barn And Stack And Tree 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

  • 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...'
    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

Farewell To Barn And Stack And Tree

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

"The sun burns on the half-mown hill,
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.

"My mother thinks us long away;
'Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she'll be alone.

"And here's a bloody hand to shake,
And oh, man, here's good-bye;
We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My bloody hands and I.

"I wish you ...

Read the full of Farewell To Barn And Stack And Tree

The Rainy Pleiads Wester

The rainy Pleiads wester,
Orion plunges prone,
The stroke of midnight ceases
And I lie down alone.

The rainy Pleiads wester,
And seek beyond the sea
The head that I shall dream of
That will not dream of me.

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