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Poem by Alfred Edward Housman


A Shropshire Lad. 29. The Lent Lily


'Tis spring; come out to ramble
   The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
   About the hollow ground
   The primroses are found.

And there's the windflower chilly
   With all the winds at play,
And there's the Lenten lily
   That has not long to stay
   And dies on Easter day.

And since till girls go maying
   You find the primrose still,
And find the windflower playing
   With every wind at will,
   But not the daffodil,

Bring baskets now, and sally
   Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
   The daffodil away
   That dies on Easter day. 



Alfred Edward Housman


Alfred Edward Housman's other poems:
  1. Last Poems. 20. The Night Is Freezing Fast
  2. More Poems. 14. The Farms of Home Lie Lost in Even
  3. More Poems. 47. For My Funeral
  4. Additional Poems. 4. It Is No Gift I Tender
  5. More Poems. 11. The Rainy Pleiads Wester


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