Poem by Alfred Edward Housman

A Shropshire Lad. 46. Bring, in this Timeless Grave to Throw

 Bring, in this timeless grave to throw,
No cypress, sombre on the snow;
Snap not from the bitter yew
His leaves that live December through;
Break no rosemary, bright with rime
And sparkling to the cruel clime;
Nor plod the winter land to look
For willows in the icy brook
To cast them leafless round him: bring
No spray that ever buds in spring.

 But if the Christmas field has kept
Awns the last gleaner overstept,
Or shrivelled flax, whose flower is blue
A single season, never two;
Or if one haulm whose year is o'er
Shivers on the upland frore,
--Oh, bring from hill and stream and plain
Whatever will not flower again,
To give him comfort: he and those
Shall bide eternal bedfellows
Where low upon the couch he lies
Whence he never shall arise. 

1. More Poems. 37. I Did Not Lose My Heart in Summer’s Even
2. More Poems. 29. From the Wash the Laundress Sends
3. More Poems. 28. He, Standing Hushed, a Pace or Two Apart
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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