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.

1. Last Poems. 22. The Sloe Was Lost in Flower
2. More Poems. 21. The World Goes None the Lamer
3. Last Poems. 13. The Deserter
4. Last Poems. 16. Spring Morning
5. More Poems. 14. The Farms of Home Lie Lost in Even

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Last Poems

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