If By Chance Your Eye Offend You

Alfred Edward Housman

If by chance your eye offend you,
Pluck it out, lad, and be sound:
’Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,
And many a balsam grows on ground.

And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your sickness is your soul.

Next 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : If Truth In Hearts That Perish
• Alfred Edward Housman : In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad
• Alfred Edward Housman : In Valleys Of Springs And Rivers
• Alfred Edward Housman : Into My Heart An Air That Kills
• Alfred Edward Housman : Is My Team Ploughing
• Alfred Edward Housman : It Nods And Curtseys And Recovers
• Alfred Edward Housman : Loitering With A Vacant Eye
• Alfred Edward Housman : Look Not In My Eyes, For Fear
• Alfred Edward Housman : Loveliest Of Trees, The Cherry Now
• Alfred Edward Housman : March

Previous 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : I Hoed And Trenched And Weeded
• Alfred Edward Housman : Hughley Steeple
• Alfred Edward Housman : Ho, Everyone That Thirsteth
• Alfred Edward Housman : Here Dead We Lie
• Alfred Edward Housman : From Far, From Eve And Morning
• Alfred Edward Housman : Fragment Of A Greek Tragedy
• Alfred Edward Housman : Farewell To Barn And Stack And Tree
• Alfred Edward Housman : Far In A Western Brookland
• Alfred Edward Housman : Epitaph On An Army Of Mercenaries
• Alfred Edward Housman : Eight O'clock