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

Alfred Edward Housman

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Then the world seemed none so bad, and I myself a sterling lad. And down in lovely muck I've lain, happy - till I woke up again.

— Alfred Edward Housman

Oh I have been to Ludlow fair, and left my necktie God knows where. And carried half way home, or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer.

— Alfred Edward Housman

I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.

— Alfred Edward Housman

And malt does more than Milton can To justify the ways of God to man.

— Alfred Edward Housman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.

— Alfred Edward Housman