Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен))

A Shropshire Lad. 32. From Far, from Eve and Morning

From far, from eve and morning
   And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
   Blew hither: here am I.

Now - for a breath I tarry
   Nor yet disperse apart-
Take my hand quick and tell me,
   What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
   How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
   I take my endless way.

1. Last Poems. 27. The Sigh That Heaves the Grasses
2. More Poems. 24. Stone, Steel, Dominions Pass
3. Additional Poems. 5. Here Are the Skies, the Planets Seven
4. Last Poems. 32. When I Would Muse in Boyhood
5. Last Poems. 2. As I Gird on for Fighting

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