Yonder see the morning blink:
    The sun is up, and up must I,
 To wash and dress and eat and drink
 And look at things and talk and think
    And work, and God knows why.

 Oh often have I washed and dressed
    And what's to show for all my pain?
 Let me lie abed and rest:
 Ten thousand times I've done my best
    And all's to do again.

“Great theme - is there still time to squeeze this one in? - the definitive ‘at work’ poem”

Don’t have any time for a biog. of Housman - who needs it anyway? - but this poem I think is a tremendous tour-de-force - just reading it at my desk fills me with depression and lethargy. It should probably be banned from the workplace <grin>. But who hasn’t felt that way from time to time?

— Steve

Thomas adds

This week’s theme seems to have struck a chord with our readers - several people have written in with suggestions and submissions. Our thanks to all of you; we’ll continue running ‘work poems’ until we run out. (Both Martin and myself have a few to contribute as well; you have been warned!).

Housman biographies can, by the way, be found at poem #33 and poem #377.

— Thomas