Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

More Poems. 29. From the Wash the Laundress Sends

From the wash the laundress sends
My collars home with ravelled ends:
1 must fit, now these are frayed,
My neck with new ones London-made.
Homespun collars, homespun hearts,
Wear to rags in foreign parts.
Mine at least’s as good as done,
And I must get a London one.

1. A Shropshire Lad. 56. The Day of Battle
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5. Last Poems. 39. When Summer’s End Is Nighing

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