Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXV
This time of year a twelvemonth past, When Fred and I would meet, We needs must jangle, till at last We fought and I was beat. So then the summer fields about, Till rainy days began, Rose Harland on her Sundays out Walked with the better man. The better man she walks with still, Though now 'tis not with Fred: A lad that lives and has his will Is worth a dozen dead. Fred keeps the house all kinds of weather, And clay's the house he keeps; When Rose and I walk out together Stock-still lies Fred and sleeps.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"This time of year a twelvemonth past,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Alfred Edward Housman delivers a powerful performance in "Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - XXV"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...