Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
A. E. HOUSMANRelated Topics
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Do not ever read books about versification: no poet ever learnt it that way. If you are going to be a poet, it will come to you naturally and you will pick up all you need from reading poetry.
A. E. HOUSMAN
The rainy Pleiads wester Orion plunges prone, And midnight strikes and hastens, And I lie down alone.
A. E. HOUSMAN
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.
A. E. HOUSMAN
All knots that lovers tie Are tied to sever. Here shall your sweetheart lie, Untrue for ever.
A. E. HOUSMAN
I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man’s deceiver Was never mine.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
A. E. HOUSMAN
But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame’s to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I’ll be there.
A. E. HOUSMAN
They say my verse is sad: no wonder; Its narrow measure spans Tears of eternity, and sorrow, Not mine. but man’s.
A. E. HOUSMAN
And malt does more than Milton can to justify God’s ways to man.
A. E. HOUSMAN
I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
A. E. HOUSMAN
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
Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.
A. E. HOUSMAN
Oh, ’tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
A. E. HOUSMAN
The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.
A. E. HOUSMAN