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Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман)


The Recruit


Leave your home behind, lad,
And reach your friends your hand,
And go, and luck go with you
While Ludlow tower shall stand.

Oh, come you home of Sunday
When Ludlow streets are still
And Ludlow bells are calling
To farm and lane and mill,

Or come you home of Monday
When Ludlow market hums
And Ludlow chimes are playing
"The conquering hero comes,"

Come you home a hero,
Or come not home at all,
The lads you leave will mind you
Till Ludlow tower shall fall.

And you will list the bugle
That blows in lands of morn,
And make the foes of England
Be sorry you were born.

And you till trump of doomsday
On lands of morn may lie,
And make the hearts of comrades
Be heavy where you die.

Leave your home behind you,
Your friends by field and town:
Oh, town and field will mind you
Till Ludlow tower is down. 



Alfred Edward Housman's other poems:
  1. Loitering With A Vacant Eye
  2. This Time Of Year A Twelvemonth Past
  3. The Day Of Battle
  4. Look Not In My Eyes, For Fear
  5. The Nonsense Verse


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