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. More Poems. 11. The Rainy Pleiads Wester
2. More Poems. 15. Tarry, Delight; so Seldom Met
3. Last Poems. 11. Yonder See the Morning Blink
4. More Poems. 25. Yon Flakes that Fret the Eastern Sky
5. Additional Poems. 14. Oh Is It the Jar of Nations

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