Alfred Edward Housman

(26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936 / Worcestershire)

If By Chance Your Eye Offend You - Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

If by chance your eye offend you,
Pluck it out, lad, and be sound:
'Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,
And many a balsam grows on ground.

And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your sickness is your soul.

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Read poems about / on: friend

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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