A E Housman

LVI

THE DAY OF BATTLE
'FAR I hear the bugle blow
To call me where I would not go,
And the guns begin the song,
"Soldier, fly or stay for long."
'Comrade, if to turn and fly
Made a soldier never die,
Fly I would, for who would not?
'Tis sure no pleasure to be shot.
'But since the man that runs away
Lives to die another day,
And cowards' funerals, when they come,
Are not wept so well at home,
'Therefore, though the best is bad,
Stand and do the best, my lad;
Stand and fight and see your slain,
And take the bullet in your brain.'

A. E. Housman (1859-1936)

XXXV

ON the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.
Far and near and low and louder
On the roads of earth go by,
Dear to friends and food for powder,
Soldiers marching, all to die.
East and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones of comrades slain,
Lovely lads and dead and rotten;
None that go return again.
Far the calling bugles hollo,
High the screaming fife replies,
Gay the files of scarlet follow:
Woman bore me, I will rise.

A. E. Housman (1859-1936)