Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

Last Poems. 2. As I Gird on for Fighting

As I gird on for fighting
        My sword upon my thigh,
I think on old ill fortunes
        Of better men than I.

Think I, the round world over,
        What golden lads are low
With hurts not mine to mourn for
        And shames I shall not know.

What evil luck soever
        For me remains in store,
’Tis sure much finer fellows
        Have fared much worse before.

So here are things to think on
        That ought to make me brave,
As I strap on for fighting
        My sword that will not save.

1. Last Poems. 21. The Fairies Break Their Dances
2. Additional Poems. 16. Some Can Gaze and not Be Sick
3. More Poems. 18. Delight it Is in Youth and May
4. More Poems. 21. The World Goes None the Lamer
5. A Shropshire Lad. 46. Bring, in this Timeless Grave to Throw

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