Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

A Shropshire Lad. 32. From Far, from Eve and Morning

From far, from eve and morning
   And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
   Blew hither: here am I.

Now - for a breath I tarry
   Nor yet disperse apart-
Take my hand quick and tell me,
   What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
   How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
   I take my endless way.

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

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