Thursday 21 January 2016

The Thursday Poem

Potted Flowers with Books IV
Eric Barjot


from A Shropshire Lad
XXXII

From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.

Now - for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart -
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say:
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
I take my endless way.

A.E. Houseman
(26th March 1859 - 30th April 1936)

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