A Shropshire Lad/Twice a week the winter thorough

by Alfred Edward Housman

XVII

Twice a week the winter thorough Here stood I to keep the goal:Football then was fighting sorrow For the young man's soul.

Now in Maytime to the wicket Out I march with bat and pad:See the son of grief at cricket Trying to be glad.

Try I will; no harm in trying: Wonder 't is how little mirthKeeps the bones of man from lying On the bed of earth.

 

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