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With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
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.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man's deceiver Was never mine.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
By brooks too broad for leaping The lightfoot boys are laid.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
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.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
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.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Happy bridegroom, Hesper brings All desired and timely things. All whom morning sends to roam, Hesper loves to lead them home. Home return who him behold, Child to mother, sheep to fold, Bird to nest from wandering wide: Happy bridegroom, seek your bride.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
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.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Clay lies still, but blood's a rover; Breath's a ware that will not keep. Up, lad: when the journey's over There'll be time enough to sleep.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Far in a western brookland That bred me long ago The poplars stand and tremble By Pools I used to know.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
The troubles of our proud and angry dust Are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
In all the endless road you tread There's nothing but the night.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
They say my verse is sad: no wonder; Its narrow measure spans Tears of eternity, and sorrow, Not mine. but man's.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
He stood, and heard the steeple Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
The rainy Pleiads wester Orion plunges prone, And midnight strikes and hastens, And I lie down alone.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
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.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge, Gold that I never see.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
There, like the wind through woods in riot, Through him the gale of life blew high; The tree of man was never quiet: Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Good literature continually read for pleasure must, let us hope, 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.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
—  Alfred Edward Housman
Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.
—  Alfred Edward Housman

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