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If By Chance Your Eye Offend You

A. E. Housman

If by chance your eye offend you,
Pluck it out, lad, and be sound:
’Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,
And many a balsam grows on ground.

And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your sickness is your soul.
Online text © 1998-2009 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From A Shropshire Lad | 1896
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