The Poetry Corner
Alfred Edward Housman

Alfred Edward Housman

1859 - 1936Alfred Edward Housman was an English classical scholar and poet. After an initially poor performance while at university, he took employment as a clerk in London and established his academic reputation by publishing as a private scholar at first. Later Housman was appointed Professor of Latin at University College London and then at the University of Cambridge. He is now acknowledged as one of the foremost classicists of his age and has been ranked as one of the greatest scholars at any time. His editions of Juvenal, Manilius and Lucan are still considered authoritative.Read more on Wikipedia

Poems

As I gird on for fighting
Astronomy
Could man be drunk for ever
Eight Oclock
Epitaph On An Army Of Mercenaries
Epithalamium
Fancys Knell
Grenadier
Hells Gate
Her strong enchantments failing,
Illic Jacet
In midnights of November,
In the morning, in the morning,
In valleys green and still
Lancer
Now dreary dawns the eastern light,
Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - I - 1887
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - II
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - III - The Recruit
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - IV - Reveille
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - IX
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - L
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LIII - The True Lover
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LIV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LIX - The Isle Of Portland
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LVI - The Day Of Battle
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LVII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LVIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LX
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LXI - Hughley Steeple
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LXII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - LXIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - V
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - VI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - VII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - VIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - X - MARCH
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XIV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XIX - To An Athlete Dying Young
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XL
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLII - The Merry Guide
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLIII - The Immortal Part
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLIV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLIX
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLVI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLVII - The Carpenter's Son
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XLVIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XVI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XVII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XVIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XX
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXI - Bredon Hill [1]
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXIV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXIX - The Lent Lily
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXVI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXVII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXVIII - The Welsh Marches
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXX
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXIII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXIV - The New Mistress
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXIX
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXV
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXVI
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXVII
Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXXVIII
Revolution
September 1922
Sinners Rue
Soldier from the wars returning,
Spring Morning
Tell me not here, it needs not saying,
The chestnut casts his flambeaux
The Culprit
The Deserter
The fairies break their dances
The First Of May
The half-moon westers low, my love,
The laws of God, the laws of man,
The night is freezing fast,
The Oracles
The rain,
The sigh that heaves the grasses
The sloe was lost in flower,
The West
When first my way to fair I took
When I would muse in boyhood
When summers end is nighing
When the eye of day is shut,
Yonder see the morning blink: