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Tomorrow, more's the pity, Away we both must hie, To air the ditty and to earth I.
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
Away
Earth
Must
Ditty
Pity
Air
Tomorrow
More quotes by A. E. Housman
All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use.
A. E. Housman
White in the moon the long road lies.
A. E. Housman
'Tis spring come out to ramble The hilly brakes around, For under thorn and bramble About the hollow ground The primroses are found. And there's the windflower chilly With all the winds at play, And there's the Lenten lily That has not long to stay And dies on Easter day.
A. E. Housman
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
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
The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in.
A. E. Housman
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
Housman is one of my heroes and always has been. He was a detestable and miserable man. Arrogant, unspeakably lonely, cruel, and so on, but and absolutely marvellous minor poet, I think, and a great scholar.
A. E. Housman
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
Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time.
A. E. Housman
Look not in my eyes, for fear They mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me.
A. E. Housman
I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one.
A. E. Housman
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
There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.
A. E. Housman
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
Ten thousand times I've done my best and all's to do again.
A. E. Housman
Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
A. E. Housman
You smile upon your friend to-day, To-day his ills are over You hearken to the lover's say, And happy is the lover. 'Tis late to hearken, late to smile, But better late than never: I shall have lived a little while Before I die for ever.
A. E. Housman
Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.
A. E. Housman
I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.
A. E. Housman
