PagineNow hollow fires burn out to black
by A. E. Housman
From A Shropshire Lad (1896), LX
Now hollow fires burn out to black,
And lights are guttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
And leave your friends and go.
Oh never fear, man, nought's to dread,
Look not left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
There's nothing but the night.
This poem is in the public domain. Source text: Project Gutenberg.