Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен))

A Shropshire Lad. 4. Reveille

Wake: the silver dusk returning
  Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
  Strands upon the eastern rims.
 
Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
  Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
  Straws the sky-pavilioned land.
 
Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
  Hear the drums of morning play;
Hark, the empty highways crying
  `Who'll beyond the hills away?'
 
Towns and countries woo together,
  Forelands beacon, belfries call;
Never lad that trod on leather
  Lived to feast his heart with all.
 
Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
  Sunlit pallets never thrive;
Morns abed and daylight slumber
  Were not meant for man alive.
 
Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
  Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey's over
  There'll be time enough to sleep.

1. More Poems. 11. The Rainy Pleiads Wester
2. More Poems. 25. Yon Flakes that Fret the Eastern Sky
3. A Shropshire Lad. 34. The New Mistress
4. More Poems. 40. Farewell to a Name and a Number
5. More Poems. 15. Tarry, Delight; so Seldom Met

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