A.e. Housman ( 4 of 4 )
Clay lies still but blood's a rover; Breath's a ware that will not keep. Up, lad; when the journey's over read more
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 for sleep.
And how am I to face the odds Of man's bedevilment and God's? I, a stranger and afraid In a read more
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.
Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may be inadvisable to draw it out... Perfect understanding read more
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.
That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot read more
That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
