Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies, But keep your fancy free.
A. E. HOUSMANRelated Topics

Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies, But keep your fancy free.
A. E. HOUSMANNow hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go.
A. E. HOUSMANI find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
A. E. HOUSMANWhen the journey’s over/There’ll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. HOUSMANThat is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
A. E. HOUSMANThey put arsenic in his meat And stared aghast to watch him eat; They poured strychnine in his cup And shook to see him drink it up.
A. E. HOUSMANThere, 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. HOUSMANGood religious poetry… is likely to be most justly appreciated and most discriminately relished by the undevout.
A. E. HOUSMANHope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man’s deceiver Was never mine.
A. E. HOUSMANExperience has taught me, when I am shaving of a morning, to keep watch over my thoughts, because, if a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act.
A. E. HOUSMANIn every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.
A. E. HOUSMANAnd silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
A. E. HOUSMANThe 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.
A. E. HOUSMANHere dead lie we because we did not choose to live and shame the land from which we sprung. Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose; but young men think it is, and we were young.
A. E. HOUSMANLuck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.
A. E. HOUSMANGive 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.
A. E. HOUSMAN