A. E. Housman



A Shropshire Lad

The street sounds
to the soldiers’ tread



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A. E. Housman (1859-1936)

A Shropshire Lad


The street sounds to the soldiers’ tread,
And out we troop to see:
A single redcoat turns his head,
He turns and looks at me.

My man, from sky to sky’s so far,
We never crossed before;
Such leagues apart the world’s ends are,
We’re like to meet no more;

What thoughts at heart have you and I
We cannot stop to tell;
But dead or living, drunk or dry,
Soldier, I wish you well.




Bredon Hill

The lads in their hundreds
to Ludlow come in for the fair