Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

A Shropshire Lad. 60. Now Hollow Fires Burn out to Black

Now hollow fires burn out to black,
 And lights are guttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
 And leave your friends and go.

Oh never fear, man, nought's to dread,
 Look not left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
 There's nothing but the night.

1. Additional Poems. 1. Atys
2. Additional Poems. 2. Oh Were He and I Together
3. Last Poems. 22. The Sloe Was Lost in Flower
4. More Poems. 9. When Green Buds Hang in the Elm Like Dust
5. Additional Poems. 11a. They Shall Have Breath that Never Were

Print

945 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version