The fairies break their dances
And leave the printed lawn,
And up from India glances
The silver sail of dawn.
The candles burn their sockets,
The blinds let through the day,
The young man feels his pockets
And wonders what's to pay.
More verses by Alfred Edward Housman
- The Winds Out Of The West Land Blow
- When The Lad For Longing Sighs
- O Why Do You Walk (A Parody)
- Oh Fair Enough Are Sky And Plain
- The Merry Guide