Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен))

A Shropshire Lad. 59. The Isle of Portland

The star-filled seas are smooth to-night
   From France to England strown;
Black towers above the Portland light
   The felon-quarried stone.

On yonder island, not to rise,
   Never to stir forth free,
Far from his folk a dead lad lies
   That once was friends with me.

Lie you easy, dream you light,
   And sleep you fast for aye;
And luckier may you find the night
   Than ever you found the day.

1. Additional Poems. 4. It Is No Gift I Tender
2. More Poems. 40. Farewell to a Name and a Number
3. Last Poems. 26. The Half-Moon Westers Low, My Love
4. More Poems. 11. The Rainy Pleiads Wester
5. Additional Poems. 2. Oh Were He and I Together

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