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Best Famous A E Housman Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous A E Housman poems. This is a select list of the best famous A E Housman poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous A E Housman poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of A E Housman poems.

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by A E Housman |

On the Idle Hill of Summer

On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams, 
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams. 

Far and near and low and louder
On the roads of earth go by, 
Dear to friends and food for powder, 
Soldiers marching, all to die. 

East and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones of comrades slain, 
Lovely lads and dead and rotten; 
None that go return again. 

Far the calling bugles hollo, 
High the screaming fife replies, 
Gay the files of scarlet follow: 
Woman bore me, I will rise.


by A E Housman |

Tis Time I Think By Wenlock Town

 'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town 
The golden broom should blow; 
The hawthorn sprinkled up and down 
Should charge the land with snow. 

Spring will not wait the loiterer's time 
Who keeps so long away; 
So others wear the broom and climb 
The hedgerows heaped with may. 

Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge, 
Gold that I never see; 
Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge 
That will not shower on me.


by A E Housman |

On Your Midnight Pallet Lying

 On your midnight pallet lying, 
Listen, and undo the door: 
Lads that waste the light in sighing 
In the dark should sigh no more; 
Night should ease a lover's sorrow; 
Therefore, since I go to-morrow, 
Pity me before. 

In the land to which I travel, 
The far dwelling, let me say-- 
Once, if here the couch is gravel, 
In a kinder bed I lay, 
And the breast the darnel smothers 
Rested once upon another's 
When it was not clay.


by A E Housman |

The rainy Pleiads wester

 The rainy Pleiads wester,
Orion plunges prone,
The stroke of midnight ceases
And I lie down alone.

The rainy Pleiads wester,
And seek beyond the sea
The head that I shall dream of
That will not dream of me.


by A E Housman |

When I Came Last to Ludlow

 When I came last to Ludlow 
Amidst the moonlight pale, 
Two friends kept step beside me, 
Two honest friends and hale. 

Now Dick lies long in the churchyard, 
And Ned lies long in jail, 
And I come home to Ludlow 
Amidst the moonlight pale.


by A E Housman |

I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded

 I hoed and trenched and weeded, 
And took the flowers to fair: 
I brought them home unheeded; 
The hue was not the wear. 

So up and down I sow them 
For lads like me to find, 
When I shall lie below them, 
A dead man out of mind. 

Some seed the birds devour, 
And some the season mars, 
But here and there will flower, 
The solitary stars, 

And fields will yearly bear them 
As light-leaved spring comes on, 
And luckless lads will wear them 
When I am dead and gone.


by A E Housman |

March

 The Sun at noon to higher air, 
Unharnessing the silver Pair 
That late before his chariot swam, 
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram. 

So braver notes the storm-cock sings 
To start the rusted wheel of things, 
And brutes in field and brutes in pen 
Leap that the world goes round again. 

The boys are up the woods with day 
To fetch the daffodils away, 
And home at noonday from the hills 
They bring no dearth of daffodils. 

Afield for palms the girls repair, 
And sure enough the palms are there, 
And each will find by hedge or pond 
Her waving silver-tufted wand. 

In farm and field through all the shire 
The eye beholds the heart's desire; 
Ah, let not only mine be vain, 
For lovers should be loved again.


by A E Housman |

When the Lad for Longing Sighs

 When the lad for longing sighs, 
Mute and dull of cheer and pale, 
If at death's own door he lies, 
Maiden, you can heal his ail. 

Lovers' ills are all to buy: 
The wan look, the hollow tone, 
The hung head, the sunken eye, 
You can have them for your own. 

Buy them, buy them: eve and morn 
Lovers' ills are all to sell. 
Then you can lie down forlorn; 
But the lover will be well.


by A E Housman |

From Far From Eve and Morning

 From far, from eve and morning 
And yon twelve-winded sky, 
The stuff of life to knit me 
Blew hither: here am I. 

Now-- for a breath I tarry 
Nor yet disperse apart-- 
Take my hand quick and tell me, 
What have you in your heart. 

Speak now, and I will answer; 
How shall I help you, say; 
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters 
I take my endless way.


by A E Housman |

White in the Moon the Long Road Lies

 White in the moon the long road lies, 
The moon stands blank above; 
White in the moon the long road lies 
That leads me from my love. 

Still hangs the hedge without a gust, 
Still, still the shadows stay: 
My feet upon the moonlit dust 
Pursue the ceaseless way. 

The world is round, so travellers tell, 
And straight though reach the track, 
Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well, 
The way will guide one back. 

But ere the circle homeward hies 
Far, far must it remove: 
White in the moon the long road lies 
That leads me from my love.