Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен))

A Shropshire Lad. 60. Now Hollow Fires Burn out to Black

Now hollow fires burn out to black,
 And lights are guttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
 And leave your friends and go.

Oh never fear, man, nought's to dread,
 Look not left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
 There's nothing but the night.

1. More Poems. 9. When Green Buds Hang in the Elm Like Dust
2. More Poems. 21. The World Goes None the Lamer
3. Last Poems. 27. The Sigh That Heaves the Grasses
4. Last Poems. 19. In Midnights of November
5. Additional Poems. 13. Oh Turn not in from Marching

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1957

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