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I think that to transfuse emotion - not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader's sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer - is the peculiar function of poetry.

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
Sense
Transmit
Felt
Vibrations
Thought
Peculiar
Think
Function
Thinking
Reader
Poetry
Writer
Vibration
Emotion
Corresponding

More quotes by A. E. Housman

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And how am I to face the odds Of man's bedevilment and God's? I, a stranger and afraid In a world I never made.
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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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The laws of God, the laws of man, He may keep that will and can Not I: let God and man decree Laws for themselves and not for me.
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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.
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But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts. And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts
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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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The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in.
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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.
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And malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.
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A moment's thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.
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The bells they sound on Bredon, And still the steeples hum. Come all to church, good people- Oh, noisy bells, be dumb I hear you, I will come.
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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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Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time.
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On Wenlock Edge the wood's in troubleHis forest fleece the Wrekin heavesThe wind it plies the saplings double, And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
A. E. Housman
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Experience has taught me, when I am shaving of a morning, to keep watch over my thoughts, because, if a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act.
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These, in the day when heaven was falling, The hour when earth's foundations fled, Followed their mercenary calling And took their wages and are dead. The British regulars who made the retreat from Mons, beginning August 24, 1914.
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Good religious poetry... is likely to be most justly appreciated and most discriminately relished by the undevout.
A. E. Housman
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Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again.
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Stars, I have seen them fall, But when they drop and die No star is lost at all From all the star-sown sky. The toil of all that be Helps not the primal fault It rains into the sea And still the sea is salt.
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The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.
A. E. Housman