A. E. Housman — If it chance your eye offend you

                  XLV          If it 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.