A. E. Housman (1859–1936). A Shropshire Lad. 1896.
XXV. This time of year a twelvemonth past
T
When Fred and I would meet,
We needs must jangle, till at last
We fought and I was beat.
Till rainy days began,
Rose Harland on her Sundays out
Walked with the better man.
Though now ’tis not with Fred:
A lad that lives and has his will
Is worth a dozen dead.
And clay’s the house he keeps;
When Rose and I walk out together
Stock-still lies Fred and sleeps.