A Shropshire Lad - XI

by A. E. 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.