Into my hear an air that kills through yon far country blows what are those blue remembered hills what spires,what farms are those? that is the land of lost content I can see it shining plain the happy highways where I went and cannot come again. A. E. Housman More Quotes by A. E. Housman More Quotes From 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 nostalgia shining land All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use. A. E. Housman humans use The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in. A. E. Housman hypocrisy house integrity I do not choose the right word, I get rid of the wrong one. A. E. Housman right-words Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young. A. E. Housman men life thinking With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad. A. E. Housman rue rose heart Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out; but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time. A. E. Housman humor ignorance funny Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think. A. E. Housman hurt beer men 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 lonely hero men Give me a land of boughs in leaf A land of trees that stand; Where trees are fallen there is grief; I love no leafless land. A. E. Housman grief land giving Oh I have been to Ludlow fair, and left my necktie God knows where. And carried half way home, or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer. A. E. Housman beer home way A moment's thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process. A. E. Housman moments painful long Great literature should do some good to the reader: must quicken his perception though dull, and sharpen his discrimination though blunt, and mellow the rawness of his personal opinions. A. E. Housman perception personal-opinions stupid Ten thousand times I've done my best and all's to do again. A. E. Housman thousand excellence done Why, if 'tis dancing you would be, There's brisker pipes than poetry. Say, for what were hop-yards meant, Or why was Burton built on Trent? Oh many a peer of England brews Livelier liquor than the Muse, And malt does more than Milton can To justify God's ways to man. Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink For fellows whom it hurts to think: Look into the pewter pot To see the world as the world's not. A. E. Housman hurt drinking men 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. A. E. Housman odds men world Loveliest of trees, the cherry now A. E. Housman white spring years 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. A. E. Housman tunes play long June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould. A. E. Housman june winter heaven Clay lies still, but blood's a rover; A. E. Housman time lying travel
