Verse > A.E. Housman > A Shropshire Lad
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A. E. Housman (1859–1936).  A Shropshire Lad.  1896.
 
LX. Now hollow fires burn out to black
 
 
NOW hollow fires burn out to black,
  And lights are guttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
  And leave your friends and go.
 
Oh never fear, man, nought’s to dread,        5
  Look not left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
  There’s nothing but the night.
 

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