Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXII

A poem by Alfred Edward Housman

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.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXII' by Alfred Edward Housman

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy