Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

Last Poems. 17. Astronomy

The Wain upon the northern steep
        Descends and lifts away.
Oh I will sit me down and weep
        For bones in Africa.

For pay and medals, name and rank,
        Things that he has not found,
He hove the Cross to heaven and sank
        The pole-star underground.

And now he does not even see
        Signs of the nadir roll
At night over the ground where he
        Is buried with the pole.

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