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A. E. Housman

A. E. Housman Biography

Poet

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“IV REVEILLE Wake: the silver dusk returning Up the beach of darkness brims, And the ship of sunrise burning Strands upon the eastern rims. Wake: the vaulted shadow shaatters, Trampled to the floor it spanned, And the tent of night in tatters Straws the sky-pavilioned land. Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying: Hear the drums of morning play; Hark, the empty highways crying "Who'll beyond the hills away?" Towns and countries woo together, Forelands beacon, belfries call; Never lad that trod on leather Lived to feast his heart with all. Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber Sunlit pallets never thrive; Morns abed and daylight slumber Were not meant for man alive. Clay lies still, but blood's a rover; Breath's a ware that will not keep Up, lad: when the journey's over There'll be time enough to sleep.”

SleepDawnWakeA Shropshire Lad
Book:A Shropshire Lad
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“Terence, this is stupid stuff: You eat your victuals fast enough; There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear, To see the rate you drink your beer. But oh, good Lord, the verse you make, It gives a chap the belly-ache. The cow, the old cow, she is dead; It sleeps well the horned head: We poor lads, 'tis our turn now To hear such tunes as killed the cow. Pretty friendship 'tis to rhyme Your friends to death before their time. Moping, melancholy mad: Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad.”

GivingWellsEnoughTurnsStuffSleepPoorLordClearStupidDrinkHumorousMadRateBeerTunesMelancholyCowsVersesRhymeBellyAchePipeLadChapsSleep Well
Author:A. E. Housman
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“Poems very seldom consist of poetry and nothing else; and pleasure can be derived also from their other ingredients. I am convinced that most readers, when they think they are admiring poetry, are deceived by inability to analyse their sensations, and that they are really admiring, not the poetry of the passage before them, but something else in it, which they like better than poetry.”

ThinkingArtPoetryPleasureReaderConvincedSensationsIngredientsPassagesInabilityDeceivedAdmiring
Book:Delphi Complete Works of A. E. Housman (Illustrated)
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“How clear, how lovely bright, How beautiful to sight Those beams of morning play; How heaven laughs out with glee Where, like a bird set free, Up from the eastern sea Soars the delightful day. To-day I shall be strong, No more shall yield to wrong, Shall squander life no more; Days lost, I know not how, I shall retrieve them now; Now I shall keep the vow I never kept before. Ensanguining the skies How heavily it dies Into the west away; Past touch and sight and sound Not further to be found, How hopeless under ground Falls the remorseful day.”

KnowsPlayPastBeautifulDiesFallFoundLostStrongHeavenSoundMorningLaughingClearSeaSkyBirdSightWestLovelySunsetHopelessYieldDay To DayDelightfulSoarEasternVowBeamGleeSight And Sound
Book:Delphi Complete Works of A. E. Housman (Illustrated)
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“When I was one-and-twenty I heard a wise man say, `Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies But keep your fancy free.' But I was one-and-twenty No use to talk to me. When I was one-and-twenty I heard him say again, `The heart out of the bosom Was never given in vain; 'Tis paid with sighs a plenty And sold for endless rue.' And I am two-and-twenty And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.”

MenGivingHeartTwoUseGivenWiseHeardPaidTwentiesEndlessPlentyVainFancyPoundsCrownsPearlsSighBosomsTalk To MeLadRubiesGuineaRue
Author:A. E. Housman
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“Because I liked you better Than suits a man to say, It irked you, and I promised I'd throw the thought away. To put the world between us We parted stiff and dry: 'Farewell,' said you, 'forget me.' 'Fare well, I will,' said I. If e'er, where clover whitens The dead man's knoll, you pass, And no tall flower to meet you Starts in the trefoiled grass, Halt by the headstone shading The heart you have not stirred, And say the lad that loved you Was one that kept his word.”

IfsMenWorldWellsHeartSaidForgetFlowerSuitsGrassDryTallFarewellHaltDead ManLadHeadstoneForget MeCloversI Liked You
Book:Delphi Complete Works of A. E. Housman (Illustrated)
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“White in the moon the long road lies, The moon stands blank above; White in the moon the long road lies That leads me from my love. Still hangs the hedge without a gust, Still, still the shadows stay: My feet upon the moonlit dust Pursue the ceaseless way. The world is round, so travellers tell, And straight through reach the track, Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well, The way will guide one back. But ere the circle homeward hies Far, far must it remove: White in the moon the long road lies That leads me from my love.”

WorldWayWellsLongStillsLyingWhiteFeetMoonShadowRoundsTrackGuidesCirclesPursueDustRemoveBlankTravellerLeading MeLong RoadWorld Is Round
Book:A Shropshire Lad
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