112 Farewell to Barn and Stack and Tree
A.E. Housman
VIII
Farewell to Barn and Stack and Tree
“Farewell to barn and stack[1] and tree,
Farewell to Severn[2] shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.
“The sun burns on the half-mown hill,
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.
“My mother thinks us long away;
‘Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she’ll be alone.
“And here’s a bloody hand to shake,
And oh, man, here’s good-bye;
We’ll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My bloody hands and I.
“I wish you strength to bring you pride,
And a love to keep you clean,
And I wish you luck, come Lammastide[3],
At racing on the green.
“Long for me the rick[4] will wait,
And long will wait the fold,
And long will stand the empty plate,
And dinner will be cold.”
— 1896
- A conical pile as of hay, left standing in the field for storage. ↵
- Largest river in the U.K., rising in mid-Wales. The English towns of Shrewsbury, Worcester, and Gloucester are situated on its banks. ↵
- August 1 wheat harvest festival, from Anglo-Saxon, hlaf-mas (loaf mass). ↵
- A stack of hay in the open air. ↵
