The Author A. E. Housman

Eight O’clock

by


    He stood, and heard the steeple
    Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
    One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
    It tossed them down.

    Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
    He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
    And then the clock collected in the tower
    Its strength, and struck.

10

facebook share button twitter share button google plus share button tumblr share button reddit share button email share button share on pinterest pinterest


Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add Eight O’clock to your own personal library.

Return to the A. E. Housman Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Epitaph On An Army Of Mercenaries

Anton Chekhov
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Susan Glaspell
Mark Twain
Edgar Allan Poe
Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
Herman Melville
Stephen Leacock
Kate Chopin
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson