Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

Alfred Edward Housman Poems

1. The Fairies Break Their Dances 1/3/2003
2. O Why Do You Walk (A Parody) 1/3/2003
3. Say, Lad, Have You Things To Do? 1/3/2003
4. Loitering With A Vacant Eye 1/3/2003
5. When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow 1/3/2003
6. Westward On The High-Hilled Plains 1/3/2003
7. This Time Of Year A Twelvemonth Past 1/3/2003
8. Xv: 'Tis Five Years Since, An End Said I 1/28/2014
9. Xviii: The Rain It Streams On Stone And Hillock 1/28/2014
10. Xx: The Night Is Freezing Fast 1/28/2014
11. Xxvi: Good Creatures Do You Love Your Lives 1/28/2014
12. Xvii: The Stars Have Not Dealt Me The Worst They Could Do 1/28/2014
13. Xl: Farewell To A Name And Number 1/28/2014
14. Xxxix: Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town 1/28/2014
15. Hell's Gate 6/26/2015
16. When The Eye Of Day Is Shut 11/18/2015
17. Her Strong Enchantments Failing 11/25/2015
18. Soldier from the wars returning 1/7/2016
19. Revolution 2/5/2016
20. Xvi: Spring Morning 1/28/2014
21. Xxxv: When First My Way To Fair I Took 1/28/2014
22. Xxi: The World Goes None The Lamer 1/28/2014
23. Xvii: Astronomy 1/28/2014
24. Xxxvi: Revolution 1/28/2014
25. When The Lad For Longing Sighs 1/3/2003
26. Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town 1/3/2003
27. It Nods And Curtseys And Recovers 1/3/2003
28. The Winds Out Of The West Land Blow 1/3/2003
29. When I Watch The Living Meet 1/3/2003
30. Bring, In This Timeless Grave To Throw 1/3/2003
31. The Day Of Battle 1/3/2003
32. Oh, See How Thick The Goldcup Flowers 1/3/2003
33. Oh Fair Enough Are Sky And Plain 1/3/2003
34. The Merry Guide 1/3/2003
35. Reveille 1/3/2003
36. Xix: The Mill Stream Now That Noises Cease 1/28/2014
37. Xii: An Epitaph 1/28/2014
38. Xxvi: The Half-Moon Westers Low My Love 1/28/2014
39. Xxiii: Crossing Alone The Nighted Ferry 1/28/2014
40. Xlvii: For My Funeral 1/28/2014
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

Eight O'Clock

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.

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