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Poetry Monster

Wake Not for the World-Heard Thunder poem – A. E. Housman

Wake not for the world-heard thunder,

Nor the chimes that earthquakes toll;

Stars may plot in heaven with planet,

Lightning rive the rock of granite,

Tempest tread the oakwood under,

Fear not you for flesh or soul;

Marching, fighting, victory past,

Stretch your limbs in peace at last.

Stir not for the soldier’s drilling,

Nor the fever nothing cures;

Throb of drum and timbal’s rattle

Call but men alive to battle,

And the fife with death-notes filling

Screams for blood–but not for yours.

Times enough you bled your best;

Sleep on now, and take your rest.

Sleep, my lad; the French have landed,

London’s burning, Windsor’s down.

Clasp your cloak of earth about you;

We must man the ditch without you,

March unled and fight short-handed,

Charge to fall and swim to drown.

Duty, friendship, bravery o’er,

Sleep away, lad; wake no more.