Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

A. E. Housman (1859–1936). A Shropshire Lad. 1896.

XXVIII. High the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam

The Welsh Marches

HIGH the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam

Islanded in Severn stream;

The bridges from the steepled crest

Cross the water east and west.

The flag of morn in conqueror’s state

Enters at the English gate:

The vanquished eve, as night prevails,

Bleeds upon the road to Wales.

Ages since the vanquished bled

Round my mother’s marriage-bed;

There the ravens feasted far

About the open house of war:

When Severn down to Buildwas ran

Coloured with the death of man,

Couched upon her brother’s grave

The Saxon got me on the slave.

The sound of fight is silent long

That began the ancient wrong;

Long the voice of tears is still

That wept of old the endless ill.

In my heart it has not died,

The war that sleeps on Severn side;

They cease not fighting, east and west,

On the marches of my breast.

Here the truceless armies yet

Trample, rolled in blood and sweat,

They kill and kill and never die;

And I think that each is I.

None will part us, none undo

The knot that makes one flesh of two,

Sick with hatred, sick with pain,

Strangling—When shall we be slain?

When shall I be dead and rid

Of the wrong my father did?

How long, how long, till spade and hearse

Put to sleep my mother’s curse?