E. Housman
E. Housman
coloured hear high love morning sunday
Here of a Sunday morning / My love and I would lie, / And see the coloured counties, / And hear the larks so high / About us in the sky.
blew eve knit life morning stuff
From far, from eve and morning And yon twelve-winded sky, The stuff of life to knit me Blew hither: here am I
blew eve knit life morning stuff
From far, from eve and morning And yon twelve-winded sky, The stuff of life to knit me Blew hither: here am I
beautiful strong morning
How clear, how lovely bright, How beautiful to sight Those beams of morning play; How heaven laughs out with glee Where, like a bird set free, Up from the eastern sea Soars the delightful day. To-day I shall be strong, No more shall yield to wrong, Shall squander life no more; Days lost, I know not how, I shall retrieve them now; Now I shall keep the vow I never kept before. Ensanguining the skies How heavily it dies Into the west away; Past touch and sight and sound Not further to be found, How hopeless under ground Falls the remorseful day.
mother morning children
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.
morning lying heart
Could man be drunk for ever With liquor, love, or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down of nights. But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts, And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts.
morning memories skins
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.
god neck
A neck God made for other use / Than strangling in a string.
falls further hopeless past sight touch west
Ensanguining the skies, How heavily it dies, Into the west away; Past touch and sight and sound, Not further to be found, How hopeless under ground, Falls the remorseful day
lay notion range time within
At that time I had no notion that I should ever come to live in Somerset - to live actually within the range of what then lay before me.
comfort lad luck small
Little is the luck I've had, And oh, 'tis comfort small - To think that many another lad - Has had no luck at all
brute certainty cursed hopeful plans sat tempest whatever
We for a certainty are not the first have sat in taverns while the tempest hurled their hopeful plans to emptiness, and cursed whatever brute and blackguard made the world.
land lie though
No change, though you lie under / The land you used to plough.
ask lovers lying night sleep turns whom
Lovers lying two by two / Ask not whom they sleep beside, / And the bridegroom all night through / Never turns him to the bride.