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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.

A. E. Housman

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A. E. Housman
Age: 77 †
Born: 1859
Born: January 1
Died: 1936
Died: January 1
Classical Philologist
Classical Scholar
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Worcs
A. E. Housman
Thinking
War
Shame
Life
History
Choose
Young
Lose
Live
Dead
Nothing
Loses
Much
Land
Men
Sure
Sprung
Think
Lying
Remembrance

More quotes by A. E. Housman

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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
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Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
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I sought them far and found them, The sure, the straight, the brave, The hearts I lost my own to, The souls I could not save They braced their belts about them, They crossed in ships the sea, They sought and found six feet of ground, And there they died for me.
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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
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Now 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. Housman
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Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.
A. E. Housman
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The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.
A. E. Housman
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When the journey's over/There'll be time enough to sleep.
A. E. Housman
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The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in.
A. E. Housman
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Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
A. E. Housman
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Good night ensured release, Imperishable peace, Have these for yours. * While sky and sea and land And earth's foundations stand And heaven endures. *These three lines are on the tablet over Housman's grave in the parish church at Ludlow, Shropshire, England
A. E. Housman
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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
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His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.
A. E. Housman
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Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
A. E. Housman
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White in the moon the long road lies.
A. E. Housman
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There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.
A. E. Housman
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The average man, if he meddles with criticism at all, is a conservative critic.
A. E. Housman
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Oh when I was in love with you, Then I was clean and brave, And miles around the wonder grew How well did I behave. And now the fancy passes by, And nothing will remain, And miles around they'll say that I Am quite myself again.
A. E. Housman
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Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man's deceiver Was never mine.
A. E. Housman
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Stone, steel, dominions pass, Faith too, no wonder So leave alone the grass That I am under.
A. E. Housman