On Your Midnight Pallet Lying

Alfred Edward Housman

On your midnight pallet lying,
Listen, and undo the door:
Lads that waste the light in sighing
In the dark should sigh no more;
Night should ease a lover’s sorrow;
Therefore, since I go to-morrow,
Pity me before.

In the land to which I travel,
The far dwelling, let me say—
Once, if here the couch is gravel,
In a kinder bed I lay,
And the breast the darnel smothers
Rested once upon another’s
When it was not clay.

Next 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : Others, I Am Not The First
• Alfred Edward Housman : Reveille
• Alfred Edward Housman : Say, Lad, Have You Things To Do?
• Alfred Edward Housman : Shot? So Quick, So Clean An Ending?
• Alfred Edward Housman : Stars
• Alfred Edward Housman : Tell Me Not Here, It Needs Not Saying
• Alfred Edward Housman : Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff
• Alfred Edward Housman : The Carpenter's Son
• Alfred Edward Housman : The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux
• Alfred Edward Housman : The Day Of Battle

Previous 10 Poems

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