March

Alfred Edward Housman

The Sun at noon to higher air,
Unharnessing the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.

So braver notes the storm-cock sings
To start the rusted wheel of things,
And brutes in field and brutes in pen
Leap that the world goes round again.

The boys are up the woods with day
To fetch the daffodils away,
And home at noonday from the hills
They bring no dearth of daffodils.

Afield for palms the girls repair,
And sure enough the palms are there,
And each will find by hedge or pond
Her waving silver-tufted wand.

In farm and field through all the shire
The eye beholds the heart’s desire;
Ah, let not only mine be vain,
For lovers should be loved again.

Next 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black
• Alfred Edward Housman : O Why Do You Walk ( A Parody )
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh Fair Enough Are Sky And Plain
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh See How Thick The Goldcup Flowers
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh Stay At Home, My Lad
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh Who Is That Young Sinner
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh, When I Was In Love With You
• Alfred Edward Housman : On Moonlit Heath And Lonesome Bank
• Alfred Edward Housman : On The Idle Hill Of Summer
• Alfred Edward Housman : On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble

Previous 10 Poems

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