If By Chance Your Eye Offend You by Alfred Edward 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.

More from Alfred Edward Housman:

• Be Still, My Soul, Be Still
• Here Dead We Lie
• To An Athlete Dying Young
• With Rue My Heart Is Laden
• Eight O’Clock
• Could Man Be Drunk Forever