A. E. Housman

“ XXIV. EPITHALAMIUM He is here, Urania's son, Hymen come from Helicon; God that glads the lover's heart, He is here to join and part. So the groomsman quits your side And the bridegroom seeks the bride: Friend and comrade yield you o'er To her that hardly loves you more. Now the sun his skyward beam Has tilted from the Ocean stream. Light the Indies, laggard sun: Happy bridegroom, day is done, And the star from OEta's steep Calls to bed but not to sleep. Happy bridegroom, Hesper brings All desired and timely things. All whom morning sends to roam, Hesper loves to lead them home. ”

“ XVI. SPRING MORNING Star and coronal and bell April underfoot renews, And the hope of man as well Flowers among the morning dews. Now the old come out to look, Winter past and winter's pains. How the sky in pool and brook Glitters on the grassy plains. Easily the gentle air Wafts the turning season on; Things to comfort them are there, Though 'tis true the best are gone. Now the scorned unlucky lad Rousing from his pillow gnawn Mans his heart and deep and glad Drinks the valiant air of dawn. ”

“ But there he will lie as they laid him: Where else could you trust him to sleep? To sleep when the bugle is crying And cravens have heard and are brave, When mothers and sweethearts are sighing And lads are in love with the grave. ”

“ Ever darker hell on high Reared its strength upon the sky, And our footfall on the track Fetched the daunting echo back. But the soldier pacing still The insuperable sill, Nursing his tormented pride, Turned his head to neither side, Sunk into himself apart And the hell-fire of his heart. ”

“ XXVII. The sigh that heaves the grasses Whence thou wilt never rise Is of the air that passes And knows not if it sighs. The diamond tears adorning Thy low mound on the lea, Those are the tears of morning, That weeps, but not for thee.
XXVIII. Now dreary dawns the eastern light, And fall of eve is drear, And cold the poor man lies at night, And so goes out the year. Little is the luck I've had, And oh, 'tis comfort small To think that many another lad Has had no luck at all. ”

“ But let the screaming echoes rest, and froth your mouth no more. 'Tis true there's better boose than brine, but he that drowns must drink it; And oh, my lass, the news is news that men have heard before. The King with half the East at heel is marched from lands of morning; Their fighters drink the rivers up, their shafts benight the air. And he that stands will die for nought, and home there's no returning. The Spartans on the sea-wet rock sat down and combed their hair. ”

“ Half the night he longed to die, Now are sown on hill and plain Pleasures worth his while to try Ere he longs to die again. Blue the sky from east to west Arches, and the world is wide, Though the girl he loves the best Rouses from another's side. ”

“ Farewell, my fair, And, call it truth or call it treason, Farewell the vows that were." "Ay, false heart, forsake me lightly: 'Tis like the brave. They find no bed to joy in rightly Before they find the grave. "Their love is for their own undoing. And east and west They scour about the world a-wooing The bullet in their breast. "Sail away the ocean over, Oh sail away, And lie there with your leaden lover For ever and a day."
XIV. THE CULPRIT The night my father got me His mind was not on me; He did not plague his fancy To muse if I should be The son you see. ”

“ 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.
X. Could man be drunk for ever With liquor, love, or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down of nights. ”

“ Says you, I will 'list for a lancer, Oh who would not sleep with the brave?
VII. In valleys green and still Where lovers wander maying They hear from over hill A music playing. Behind the drum and fife, Past hawthornwood and hollow, Through earth and out of life The soldiers follow. The soldier's is the trade: In any wind or weather He steals the heart of maid And man together. The lover and his lass Beneath the hawthorn lying Have heard the soldiers pass, And both are sighing. And down the distance they With dying note and swelling Walk the resounding way To the still dwelling. ”

“ But over sea and continent from sight Safe to the Indies has the earth conveyed The vast and moon-eclipsing cone of night, Her towering foolscap of eternal shade. See, in mid heaven the sun is mounted; hark, The belfries tingle to the noonday chime. 'Tis silent, and the subterranean dark Has crossed the nadir, and begins to climb.
XXXVII. EPITAPH ON AN ARMY OF MERCENARIES These, in the day when heaven was falling, The hour when earth's foundations fled, Followed their mercenary calling And took their wages and are dead. ”

“ Now times are altered: if I care To buy a thing, I can; The pence are here and here's the fair, But where's the lost young man? —To think that two and two are four And neither five nor three The heart of man has long been sore And long 'tis like to be. ”

“ Our thoughts, a long while after, They think, our words they say; Theirs now's the laughter, The fair, the first of May. Ay, yonder lads are yet The fools that we were then; For oh, the sons we get Are still the sons of men. ”

“ The son of woman turns his brow West from forty countries now, And, as the edge of heaven he eyes, Thinks eternal thoughts, and sighs. Oh wide's the world, to rest or roam, With change abroad and cheer at home, Fights and furloughs, talk and tale, Company and beef and ale. But if I front the evening sky Silent on the west look I, And my comrade, stride for stride, Paces silent at my side, Comrade, look not on the west: 'Twill have the heart out of your breast ”