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In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

A. E. Housman

Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man’s deceiver Was never mine.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Believe Greatness Hope Loyal Lying Soul Today Worship Yesterday
The average man, if he meddles with criticism at all, is a conservative critic.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Average Conservatism Criticism Man
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

Born Dangerous Death Guilty Myself Road Shame Share Soul
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.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Fame Fleeting Lover Luck Thoughts Trouble
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
And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Ears Earth Silence Worst
Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Boundation Feel Lover Lying Night Power Satisfy Self Esteem Sleep Try
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

Collection Count Curse Himself Strength
And malt does more than Milton can to justify God’s ways to man.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Belief Believe Book Drink Food Greatness Hope Loyal Soul Today Worship Yesterday
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
The rainy Pleiads wester Orion plunges prone, And midnight strikes and hastens, And I lie down alone.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Alone Hatton Lying Midnight Orion Prone Rain Strike Wester
His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Day Heart Himself Man Soul Woman
In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Conceal Country Cunning
But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts. And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts.
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

Content Lost Myself Plain Shine
He would not stay for me, and who can wonder? He would not stay for me to stand and gaze. I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder, And went with half my life about my ways.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Hands Life Myself Stand Stay Ways Wonder

In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

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In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

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