Alfred Edward Housman
Alfred Edward Housman Quotes
''“The heart from out the bosomA.E. Housman
Was never given in vain
But bought with sighs aplenty
And sold for endless rue
And now I am two and twenty
And oh tis true, tis true”''
''“Stars, I have seen them fall,A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad
But when they drop and die
No star is lost at all
From all the star-sown sky.
The toil of all that be
Helps not the primal fault;
It rains into the sea
And still the sea is salt.” ''
''“Give me a land of boughs in leafA.E. Housman
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief;
I love no leafless land.” ''
''“The sum of things to be known is inexhaustible, and however long we read, we shall never come to the end of our story-book."A.E. Housman, Selected Prose
(Introductory lecture as professor of Latin at University College, London, 3 October 1892)” ''
''“All knots that lovers tieA.E. Housman, More Poems
Are tied to sever.
Here shall your sweetheart lie,
Untrue for ever.” ''
''“Could man be drunk for everA.E. Housman, The Collected Poems
With liquor, love, or fights,
Lief should I rouse at morning
And lief lie down of nights.
But men at whiles are sober
And think by fits and starts,
And if they think, they fasten
Their hands upon their hearts.” ''
''“The thoughts of othersA.E. Housman, More Poems
Were light and fleeting,
Of lovers meeting
Or luck or fame.
Mine were of trouble,
And mine were steady;
So I was ready
When trouble came.” ''
''“Therefore, since the world has stillA.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure
Lucks a chance, but troubles sure,
Id face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.” ''
''“Who made the world I cannot tell;A.E. Housman, More Poems
Tis made, and here I am in hell.” ''
''“Now hollow fires burn out to black,A.E. Housman
And lights are fluttering low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack
And leave your friends and go.
O never fear, lads, naught’s to dread,
Look not left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread
There’s nothing but the night.” ''
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To An Athlete Dying Young
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has ...
He stood, and heard the steeple
Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
It tossed them down.
Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
And then the clock collected in the tower
Its strength, and struck.