Alfred Edward Housman
The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux
The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowers
Stream from the hawthorn on the wind away,
The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers.
Pass me the can, lad; there's an end of May.
There's one spoilt spring to scant our mortal lot,
One season ruined of your little store.
May will be fine next year as like as not:
But ay, but then we shall be twenty-four.
We for a certainty are not the first
Have sat in taverns while the tempest hurled
Their hopeful plans to emptiness, and cursed
Whatever brute and blackguard made the world.
It is in truth iniquity on high
To cheat our sentenced souls of aught they crave,
And mar the merriment as you and I
Fare on our long fool's-errand to the grave.
Iniquity it is; but pass the can.
My lad, no pair of kings our mothers bore;
Our only portion is the estate of man:
We want the moon, but we shall get no more.
If here to-day the cloud of thunder lours
To-morrow it will hie on far behests;
The flesh will grieve on other bones than ours
Soon, and the soul will mourn in other breasts.
The troubles of our proud and angry dust
Are from eternity, and shall not fail.
Bear them we can, and if we can we must.
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
Alfred Edward Housman's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux by Alfred Edward Housman )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Hanging above the blue, Janet Armstrong
- Truth in Prose, Patrick van der Loos
- Mindless Muddle, alex sarich
- The Autistic Land (Sonnet), Maria Magdalena Biela
- Love is love....., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Ode, Morgan Michaels
- Milk, Asit Kumar Sanyal
- A ROBBER'S UGLY ORDEALS, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- To meet each other, Tiku akp
- Maintain That Level Of Decorum, Ronell Warren Alman