XVII
Twice a week the winter thorough
Here stood I to keep the goal:
Football then was fighting sorrow
For the young man's soul.
Now in May time to the wicket
Out I march with bat and pad:
See the son of grief at cricket
Trying to be glad.
Try I will; no harm in trying:
Wonder 'tis how little mirth
Keeps the bones of man from lying
On the bed of earth.
~~
A.E. Housman (1859-1936)
from A Shropshire Lad, 1896
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
A.E. Housman biography
No comments:
Post a Comment