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A. E. Housman Quote - When the journey’s over, There’ll be time enough to sleep.

When the journey’s over, There’ll be time enough to sleep.

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Enough Journey Sleep Time

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They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
A. E. HOUSMAN

Concur Glory Knowledge Literature Man Masterwork Men P Writing
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.
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Draw Happiness Meaning Perfection Poetry Understand
The rainy Pleiads wester Orion plunges prone, And midnight strikes and hastens, And I lie down alone.
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Alone Hatton Lying Midnight Orion Prone Rain Strike Wester
Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies, But keep your fancy free.
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Donate Genuine Giving Heart Idea Inspiration Life Motivation Obscure Saying True
June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter’s cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.
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Heaven Himself Hope Store Warm
To justify God’s ways to man.
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God Justification Man One Liner Way
Here 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.
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Die Hope Irony Lesson Life Lying Memory Shame War Wish
Tell me not here, it needs not saying, What tune the enchantress plays In aftermaths of soft September Or under blanching mays, For she and I were long acquainted And I knew all her ways.
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The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.
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Happiness Happy Joy Mind Satisfy Soul
Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.
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Nature, not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write.
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Ability Himself Nature Thinking Writing
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.
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Collection Count Curse Himself Strength
I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
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Afraid Myself Stranger World
I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
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And malt does more than Milton can to justify God’s ways to man.
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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

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