Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

Alfred Edward Housman Poems

41. On Moonlit Heath And Lonesome Bank 1/3/2003
42. On The Idle Hill Of Summer 1/3/2003
43. On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble 1/3/2003
44. On Your Midnight Pallet Lying 1/3/2003
45. Others, I Am Not The First 1/3/2003
46. Reveille 1/3/2003
47. Say, Lad, Have You Things To Do? 1/3/2003
48. Shot? So Quick, So Clean An Ending? 1/3/2003
49. Stars 1/3/2003
50. Tell Me Not Here, It Needs Not Saying 1/3/2003
51. Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff 1/3/2003
52. The Carpenter's Son 1/3/2003
53. The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux 1/3/2003
54. The Day Of Battle 1/3/2003
55. The Fairies Break Their Dances 1/3/2003
56. The Grizzly Bear 1/3/2003
57. The Immortal Part 1/3/2003
58. The Isle Of Portland 1/3/2003
59. The Lads In Their Hundreds 1/3/2003
60. The Laws Of God, The Laws Of Man 1/3/2003
61. The Lent Lily 1/3/2003
62. The Merry Guide 1/3/2003
63. The New Mistress 1/3/2003
64. The Nonsense Verse 1/28/2014
65. The Rainy Pleiads Wester 1/3/2003
66. The Recruit 1/3/2003
67. The Stinging Nettle 1/3/2003
68. The Street Sounds To The Soldiers' Tread 1/3/2003
69. The True Lover 1/3/2003
70. The Welsh Marches 1/3/2003
71. The Winds Out Of The West Land Blow 1/3/2003
72. There Pass The Careless People 1/3/2003
73. Think No More, Lad 1/3/2003
74. This Time Of Year A Twelvemonth Past 1/3/2003
75. Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town 1/3/2003
76. To An Athlete Dying Young 1/3/2003
77. Twice A Week The Winter Thorough 1/3/2003
78. Vi: Lancer 1/28/2014
79. Wake Not For The World-Heard Thunder 1/3/2003
80. Westward On The High-Hilled Plains 1/3/2003
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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