By
A.E. Housman (1859-1936)
From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I
Now - for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart-
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.
Speak now and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
I take my endless way.