The Merry Guide
by
A.E. Housman |
| Once in the wind of morning |
| I ranged the thymy wold; |
| The world-wide air was azure |
And all the brooks ran gold.
|
| There through the dews beside me |
| Behold a youth that trod, |
| With feathered cap on forehead, |
And poised a golden rod.
|
| With mien to match the morning |
| And gay delightful guise |
| And friendly brows and laughter |
He looked me in the eyes.
|
| Oh whence, I asked, and whither? |
| He smiled and would not say, |
| And looked at me and beckoned |
And laughed and led the way.
|
| And with kind looks and laughter |
| And nought to say beside |
| We two went on together, |
I and my happy guide.
|
| Across the glittering pastures |
| And empty upland still |
| And solitude of shepherds |
High in the folded hill,
|
| By hanging woods and hamlets |
| That gaze through orchards down |
| On many a windmill turning |
And far-discovered town,
|
| With gay regards of promise |
| And sure unslackened stride |
| And smiles and nothing spoken |
Led on my merry guide.
|
| By blowing realms of woodland |
| With sunstruck vanes afield |
| And cloud-led shadows sailing |
About the windy weald,
|
| By valley-guarded granges |
| And silver waters wide, |
| Content at heart I followed |
With my delightful guide.
|
| And like the cloudy shadows |
| Across the country blown |
| We two fare on for ever, |
But not we two alone.
|
| With the great gale we journey |
| That breathes from gardens thinned, |
| Borne in the drift of blossoms |
Whose petals throng the wind;
|
| Buoyed on the heaven-heard whisper |
| Of dancing leaflets whirled |
| From all the woods that autumn |
Bereaves in all the world.
|
| And midst the fluttering legion |
| Of all that ever died |
| I follow, and before us |
Goes the delightful guide,
|
| With lips that brim with laughter |
| But never once respond, |
| And feet that fly on feathers, |
And serpent-circled wand.
|
|
A.E. Housman |
Classic Poems |
|
|
|
[ Bredon Hill ] [ Clunton and Clunbury ] [ 'Is my team ploughing ] [ Parta Quies ] [ On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble; ] [ Loveliest of trees, the cherry now ] [ The Merry Guide ] [ 'Tis time, I think by Wenlock Town ] [ When I came last to Ludlow ] [ When I was one-and-twenty ] |
