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A Shropshire Lad - XV -- A E Housman

Guest poem sent in by Louise Archer
(Poem #439) A Shropshire Lad - XV
  Look not in my eyes, for fear
  They mirror true the sight I see,
  And there you find your face too clear
  And love it and be lost like me.
  One the long nights through must lie
  Spent in star-defeated sighs,
  But why should you as well as I
  Perish? gaze not in my eyes.
  A Grecian lad, as I hear tell,
  One that many loved in vain,
  Looked into a forest well
  And never looked away again.
  There, when the turf in springtime flowers,
  With downward eye and gazes sad,
  Stands amid the glancing showers
  A jonquil, not a Grecian lad.
-- A E Housman
I love this poem.  Not just for the content, but also for the "feel" of the
words.  It flows so beautifully and is vaguely sinister.  There is a
distinct shift in tone from line 8 to line 9, where he moves into the
explanation of the poem - where we learn that it is about self-love.

I have been to the house in Hampstead, UK, where Housman wrote A Shropshire
Lad, and I have to say if anywhere could inpspire poetry in someone, it is

As to further suggestions for content - well, anything by Housman!!!


20 comments: ( or Leave a comment )

S. W. Viar said...

You must understand, I am a drop out who got lucky. Thanks for al the
good works.. Later


S. W. Viar said...

Absolutely great. Wish I could have written it,, don't you???

But think about this!!!

Look not in my eyes, for fear
They mirror true the sight I see,
And there you find your face too clear
An love it and be lost like me. etc etc etc etc=======

And so it goes


Nelson said...
This comment has been removed by the author.

viagra online said...

I love this poem written by him...

Because I liked you better
Than suits a man to say
It irked you, and I promised
To throw the thought away.

To put the world between us
We parted, stiff and dry;
Goodbye, said you, forget me.
I will, no fear, said I

If here, where clover whitens
The dead man's knoll, you pass,
And no tall flower to meet you
Starts in the trefoiled grass,

Halt by the headstone naming
The heart no longer stirred,
And say the lad that loved you
Was one that kept his word.

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