Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

More Poems. 47. For My Funeral

O thou that from thy mansion,
        Through time and place to roam,
Dost send abroad thy children,
        And then dost call them home,

That men and tribes and nations
        And all thy hand hath made
May shelter them from sunshine
        In thine eternal shade:

We now to peace and darkness
        And earth and thee restore
Thy creature that thou madest
        And wilt cast forth no more.

1. Additional Poems. 11a. They Shall Have Breath that Never Were
2. Last Poems. 21. The Fairies Break Their Dances
3. Last Poems. 19. In Midnights of November
4. More Poems. 29. From the Wash the Laundress Sends
5. Additional Poems. 16. Some Can Gaze and not Be Sick

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