A. E. Housman: On your midnight pallet lying

On your midnight pallet lying  Listen, and undo the door: Lads that waste the light in sighing  In the dark should sigh no more; Night should ease a lover's sorrow; Therefore, since I go to-morrow;  Pity me before.
In the land to which I travel,  The far dwelling, let me say— Once, if here the couch is gravel,  In a kinder bed I lay, And the breast the darnel smothers Rested once upon another's  When it was not clay.