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A. E. Housman Quote - On Wenlock Edge the wood’s in trouble;His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;The wind it plies the saplings double, And thick on Severn snow the leaves.

On Wenlock Edge the wood’s in trouble;His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;The wind it plies the saplings double, And thick on Severn snow the leaves.

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Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man’s deceiver Was never mine.
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Believe Greatness Hope Loyal Lying Soul Today Worship Yesterday
They say my verse is sad: no wonder; Its narrow measure spans Tears of eternity, and sorrow, Not mine. but man’s.
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Apostles Culture Equality Grace Men Mindset Pleasure Saint World
White in the moon the long road lies.
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We now to peace and darkness And earth and thee restore Thy creature that thou madest And wilt cast forth no more.
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Good religious poetry… is likely to be most justly appreciated and most discriminately relished by the undevout.
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The fairies break their dances And leave the printed lawn.
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Break Dance Leaving Print
Look not in my eyes, for fear They mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me.
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Eyes Face Fear Lost Love Myself Sight
Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.
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Believe Earth Heaven Life Love Strong True Universe
Poetry is not the thing said, but the way of saying it.
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Poetry Words Writing
Housman is one of my heroes and always has been. He was a detestable and miserable man. Arrogant, unspeakably lonely, cruel, and so on, but and absolutely marvellous minor poet, I think, and a great scholar.
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Arrogant Greatness Hero Himself Lonely Man Misery Poet
When the journey’s over, There’ll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Enough Journey Sleep Time
The thoughts of others 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.
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When the journey’s over/There’ll be time enough to sleep.
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Enough Journey Limit Order Rich Sleep Struggle Success Time
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.
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Collection Count Curse Himself Strength
And malt does more than Milton can to justify God’s ways to man.
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Ale, man, ale’s the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.
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Drink Fellow Hurt

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