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Poem by Alfred Edward Housman


Last Poems. We’ll to the Woods No More


We’ll to the woods no more,
The laurels all are cut,
The bowers are bare of bay
That once the Muses wore;
The year draws in the day
And soon will evening shut:
The laurels all are cut,
We’ll to the woods no more.
Oh we’ll no more, no more
To the leafy woods away,
To the high wild woods of laurel
And the bowers of bay no more.



Alfred Edward Housman


Alfred Edward Housman's other poems:
  1. More Poems. 15. Tarry, Delight; so Seldom Met
  2. A Shropshire Lad. 34. The New Mistress
  3. A Shropshire Lad. 17. Twice a Week the Winter Thorough
  4. Additional Poems. 5. Here Are the Skies, the Planets Seven
  5. More Poems. 25. Yon Flakes that Fret the Eastern Sky


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