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.
More Quotes from A. E. Housman:
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.A. E. 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.
A. E. Housman
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.
A. E. Housman
In all the endless road you tread There's nothing but the night.
A. E. Housman
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.
A. E. Housman
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