Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

Eight O'Clock - Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

He stood, and heard the steeple
Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
It tossed them down.

Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
And then the clock collected in the tower
Its strength, and struck.


Comments about Eight O'Clock by Alfred Edward Housman

  • (5/27/2017 5:17:00 AM)


    Short and sweet yet profound. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: strength, people



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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