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Poem by Alfred Edward Housman Last Poems. 28. Now Dreary Dawns the Eastern Light Now dreary dawns the eastern light, And fall of eve is drear, And cold the poor man lies at night, And so goes out the year. Little is the luck I’ve had, And oh, ’tis comfort small To think that many another lad Has had no luck at all. Alfred Edward Housman Alfred Edward Housman's other poems:
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