You smile upon your friend to-day, To-day his ills are over; You hearken to the lover’s say, And happy is the lover. ‘Tis late to hearken, late to smile, But better late than never: I shall have lived a little while Before I die for ever.
A. E. HOUSMANWhen the journey’s over, There’ll be time enough to sleep.
More A. E. Housman Quotes
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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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Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.
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The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in.
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Give me a land of boughs in leaf A land of trees that stand; Where trees are fallen there is grief; I love no leafless land.
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Clay lies still, but blood’s a rover; Breath’s aware that will not keep. Up, lad: when the journey’s over then there’ll be time enough to sleep.
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Stone, steel, dominions pass, Faith too, no wonder; So leave alone the grass That I am under.
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With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad.
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And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
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Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
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I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
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Ten thousand times I’ve done my best and all’s to do again.
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A moment’s thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.
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I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
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All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use.
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Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.
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White in the moon the long road lies.
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I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
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When the journey’s over/There’ll be time enough to sleep.
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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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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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Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.
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Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.
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When the journey’s over, There’ll be time enough to sleep.
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I think that to transfuse emotion – not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader’s sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer – is the peculiar function of poetry.
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All knots that lovers tie Are tied to sever. Here shall your sweetheart lie, Untrue for ever.
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June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter’s cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.
A. E. HOUSMAN