Alfred Edward Housman

More Poems. 43. I Wake from Dreams and Turning

I wake from dreams and turning
        My vision on the height
I scan the beacons burning
        About the fields of night.

Each in its steadfast station
        Inflaming heaven they flare;
They sign with conflagration
        The empty moors of air.

The signal-fires of warning
        They blaze, but none regard;
And on through night to morning
        The world runs ruinward.