A Shropshire Lad - XI

by A. E. Housman

　　

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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.

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