Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

Last Poems. 15. Eight O'Clock

He stood, and heard the steeple
        Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
        It tossed them down.

Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
        He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
And then the clock collected in the tower
        Its strength, and struck.

1. More Poems. 29. From the Wash the Laundress Sends
2. More Poems. 28. He, Standing Hushed, a Pace or Two Apart
3. More Poems. 37. I Did Not Lose My Heart in Summer’s Even
4. Last Poems. 33. When the Eye of Day Is Shut
5. A Shropshire Lad. 41. In My Own Shire, if I Was Sad

Print

2154 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version