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Poem by Alfred Edward Housman


A Shropshire Lad. 39. 'Tis time, I Think by Wenlock Town


'Tis time, I think by Wenlock town
   The golden broom should blow;
The hawthorn sprinkled up and down
   Should charge the land with snow.

Spring will not wait the loiterer's time
   Who keeps so long away;
So others wear the broom and climb
   The hedgerows heaped with may.

Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
   Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge
   That will not shower on me. 



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. More Poems. 11. The Rainy Pleiads Wester
  5. More Poems. 28. He, Standing Hushed, a Pace or Two Apart


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