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. HOUSMANRelated Topics
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
Oh, ’tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
A. E. HOUSMAN
When the journey’s over, There’ll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. HOUSMAN
In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.
A. E. HOUSMAN
This is for all ill-treated fellows Unborn and unbegot, For them to read when they’re in trouble And I am not.
A. E. HOUSMAN
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
A moment’s thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Therefore, since the world has still Much good, but much less good than ill.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Stars, I have seen them fall, 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.
A. E. HOUSMAN
I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
A. E. HOUSMAN
I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.
A. E. HOUSMAN
All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Ale, man, ale’s the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.
A. E. HOUSMAN
That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
A. E. HOUSMAN