Quote #22
But from my grave across my brow Plays no wind of healing now, And fire and ice within me fight Beneath the suffocating night.
More from A. E. Housman
- They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man, The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
- 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, …
- The bells they sound on Bredon And still the steeples hum. 'Come all to church, good people,' - Oh, noisy bells, be dumb; I hear you, I wil…
- Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge, Gold that I never see; Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge That will not shower on me.
- And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.
- Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those? That i…
- To-day, the road all runners come, Shoulder-high, we bring you home, And set you at your threshold down, Townsman of a stiller town.
- Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle, Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.