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Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.

A. E. Housman

Poetry is not the thing said, but the way of saying it.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Poetry Words Writing
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair, and left my necktie God knows where. And carried half way home, or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Beer Belief Cause Home Lost Loyalty Name Popular Way
Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may be inadvisable to draw it out. Perfect understanding will sometimes almost extinguish pleasure.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Draw Happiness Meaning Perfection Poetry Understand
There, like the wind through woods in riot, Through him the gale of life blew high; The tree of man was never quiet: Then ’twas the Roman, now ’tis I.
A. E. HOUSMAN
I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Animal Definition Myself Poetry
The laws of God, the laws of man, He may keep that will and can; Not I: let God and man decree Laws for themselves and not for me.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out; but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Free Funny Humor Ignorance Irksome Object Plan Time
Therefore, since the world has still Much good, but much less good than ill.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Goodness Sick World
When the journey’s over/There’ll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Enough Journey Limit Order Rich Sleep Struggle Success Time
But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts. And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts.
A. E. HOUSMAN
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.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Collection Count Curse Himself Strength
With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Friendship Heart Maidan
The average man, if he meddles with criticism at all, is a conservative critic.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Average Conservatism Criticism Man
I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Afraid Myself Stranger World
His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Day Heart Himself Man Soul Woman
Who made the world I cannot tell; ‘Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Hands Hell Myself World

Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.

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Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.

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