Last Poems (1 of 42)
SHARING
We encourage sharing--forward to a friend!
LAST POEMS
By A. E. Housman
I publish these poems, few though they are, because it is not likely
that I shall ever be impelled to write much more. I can no longer
expect to be revisited by the continuous excitement under which in
the early months of 1895 I wrote the greater part of my first book,
nor indeed could I well sustain it if it came; and it is best that what
I have written should be printed while I am here to see it through
the press and control its spelling and punctuation. About a quarter
of this matter belongs to the April of the present year, but most of
it to dates between 1895 and 1910.
September 1922
/We'll to the weeds no more,
The laurels are all cut,
The bowers are bare of bay
That once the Muses wore;
The year draws in the day
And soon will evening shut:
The laurels all are cut,
We'll to the woods no more.
Oh we'll no more, no more
To the leafy woods away,
To the high wild woods of laurel
And the bowers of bay no more./
Last Poems
Send 42 installments for free as a gift.
Last Poems
Receive installments for free In English