There Pass The Careless People

A. E. HousmanA. E. Housman

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There pass the careless people
That call their souls their own:
Here by the road I loiter,
How idle and alone.Ah, past the plunge of plummet,
In seas I cannot sound,
My heart and soul and senses,
World without end, are drowned.His folly has not fellow
Beneath the blue of day
That gives to man or woman
His heart and soul away.There flowers no balm to sain him
From east of earth to west
That's lost for everlasting
The heart out of his breast.Here by the labouring highway
With empty hands I stroll:
Sea-deep, till doomsday morning,
Lie lost my heart and soul.
A. E. Housman
About the poet

A. E. Housman

1859 - 1936/EnglishAlfred Edward Housman, usually known as A. E. Housman, was an English classical scholar and poet, best known for his cycle of poems A Shropshire Lad. Lyrical and almost epigrammatic in form, the poems were mostly written before 1900. Their…

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