The queen she sent to look for me,
The sergeant he did say,
‘Young man, a soldier will you be
For thirteen pence a day?’
For thirteen pence a day did I
Take off the things I wore,
And I have marched to where I lie,
And I shall march no more.
My mouth is dry, my shirt is wet,
My blood runs all away,
So now I shall not die in debt
For thirteen pence a day.
Tomorrow after new young men
The sergeant he must see,
For things will all be over then
Between the queen and me.
And I shall have to bate my price,
For in the grave, they say,
Is neither knowledge nor device
Nor thirteen pence a day.
(A E Housman)
More Poetry from A E Housman:
A E Housman Poems based on Topics: A. E. Housman Poems about Man, A. E. Housman Poems about Soldiers, A. E. Housman Poems about Kings & Queens, Debts- LXII: Terence, This is Stupid Stuff (A E Housman Poems)
- Diffugere Nives (A E Housman Poems)
- IX: The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux and the Flowers (A E Housman Poems)
- XIII: The Deserter (A E Housman Poems)
- I:1887 (A E Housman Poems)
- IX: On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank (A E Housman Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Man Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Soldiers Poems, Debts PoemsBased on Keywords: bate