Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

Last Poems. 5. Grenadier

The Queen she sent to look for me,
    The sergeant he did say,
'Young man, a soldier will you be
    For thirteen pence a day?'

For thirteen pence a day did I
    Take off the things I wore,
And I have marched to where I lie,
    And I shall march no more.

My mouth is dry, my shirt is wet,
    My blood runs all away,
So now I shall not die in debt
    For thirteen pence a day.

To-morrow after new young men
    The sergeant he must see,
For things will all be over then
    Between the Queen and me.

And I shall have to bate my price,
    For in the grave, they say,
Is neither knowledge nor device
    Nor thirteen pence a day.

1. A Shropshire Lad. 56. The Day of Battle
2. More Poems. 33. On Forelands High in Heaven
3. More Poems. 21. The World Goes None the Lamer
4. More Poems. 17. Bells in Tower at Evening Toll
5. Additional Poems. 11a. They Shall Have Breath that Never Were

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