Wake Not For The World-heard Thunder

Alfred Edward Housman

Wake not for the world-heard thunder,
Nor the chimes that earthquakes toll;
Stars may plot in heaven with planet,
Lightning rive the rock of granite,
Tempest tread the oakwood under,
Fear not you for flesh or soul;
Marching, fighting, victory past,
Stretch your limbs in peace at last.

Stir not for the soldier's drilling,
Nor the fever nothing cures;
Throb of drum and timbal's rattle
Call but men alive to battle,
And the fife with death-notes filling
Screams for blood--but not for yours.
Times enough you bled your best;
Sleep on now, and take your rest.

Sleep, my lad; the French have landed,
London's burning, Windsor's down.
Clasp your cloak of earth about you;
We must man the ditch without you,
March unled and fight short-handed,
Charge to fall and swim to drown.
Duty, friendship, bravery o'er,
Sleep away, lad; wake no more. 

Next 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : Westward On The High-hilled Plains
• Alfred Edward Housman : When I Came Last To Ludlow
• Alfred Edward Housman : When I Was One-and-twenty
• Alfred Edward Housman : When I Watch The Living Meet
• Alfred Edward Housman : When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow
• Alfred Edward Housman : When The Lad For Longing Sighs
• Alfred Edward Housman : White In The Moon The Long Road Lies
• Alfred Edward Housman : With Rue My Heart Is Laden
• Alfred Edward Housman : You Smile Upon Your Friend To-day
• Ted Hughes : A Woman Unconscious

Previous 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : Twice A Week The Winter Thorough
• Alfred Edward Housman : To An Athlete Dying Young
• Alfred Edward Housman : Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town
• Alfred Edward Housman : This Time Of Year A Twelvemonth Past
• Alfred Edward Housman : Think No More, Lad; Laugh, Be Jolly
• Alfred Edward Housman : Think No More, Lad
• Alfred Edward Housman : There Pass The Careless People
• Alfred Edward Housman : The Winds Out Of The West Land Blow
• Alfred Edward Housman : The Welsh Marches
• Alfred Edward Housman : The True Lover