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A Shropshire Lad (Penguin English Journeys #7)
by
A.E. Housman
Authoritative edition of one of the enduring classics of English poetry — 63 poems on the nature of friendship, the passing of youth, the vanity of dreams, other human concerns. Long prized by literary scholars for their perfection of form and feeling, and loved by generations of readers for simplicity, sensitivity, direct emotional appeal.
Paperback, 64 pages
Published
July 1st 1990
by Dover Publications
(first published 1895)
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Be forewarned: this review is less about this book than maybe any review on this site has EVER not been about a book (exaggeration is my thing, as of late.) I read this short collection of poems, and I wanted to really turn your heads around in circles with my insightful analysis of its varying components. To tell you all about who Housman was, what he intended to tell you, how/why you should read these poems, and maybe even how you should feel about them. Straight-up-deep-dopeshit. This I c...more
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X. March
The Sun at noon to higher air,
Unharnessing the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
So braver notes the storm-cock sings
To start the rusted wheel of things,
And brutes in field and brutes in pen
Leap that the world goes round again.
The boys are up the woods with day
To fetch the daffodils away,
And home at noonday from the hills
They bring no dearth of daffodils...more
The Sun at noon to higher air,
Unharnessing the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
So braver notes the storm-cock sings
To start the rusted wheel of things,
And brutes in field and brutes in pen
Leap that the world goes round again.
The boys are up the woods with day
To fetch the daffodils away,
And home at noonday from the hills
They bring no dearth of daffodils...more
This cycle of 63 short poems at first seems to wander from topic to topic with frequent visits to the grave, but in the end I was left with the impression of it as a masterful collective whole. The first poem had me fearing I would have to struggle through archaic phrases, regionalisms, or poetic abstractions. But with the Oxford English Dictionary loaded on my computer, I soon found myself enjoying Housman's verse for his unusual vocabulary and its creative (or was it old-fashioned) use.
...more
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Moping, melancholy, mad ... an anthology of morose poems that lingers far too long on the themes of death and loss, A. E. Housman's A Shropshire Lad (1895) lay nearly forgotten until the outbreak of World War I, when its nostalgia, gloomy imagery, and fatal stoicism suited the tenor of the time. The poems, mostly cast as ballads, are easy to read and reminded me often both of Kipling's ballads and of some of Yeats' early work. But I was disappointed that Housman didn't develop his themes more el...more
There are some great poems in here [Reveille, 1887, "When I was one-and-twenty..." To An Athlete Dying young, "is my team plowing?..." "think no more, lad..." "The Day of Battle" "Terrence this is stupid stuff..." "Loveliest of trees, the cherry now":], but after awhile, you get tired of the same old meter and the same old themes. What begins as a powerful meditation on mortality and the fragility of a life devolves into self-parody....more
I suppose most of what I've read of Housman before was his cynical older stuff, which I suppose follows necissarily from someone who writes stuff like this. According to the poems in this volume, the world is composed almost entirly of young men and women who are either in love with one another, dying, or both. It's a kind of stupid romanticism that modern poets wouldn't be caught dead with. Also, Housman is an angry sort of skeptic, which gets old after a while, as do his insistances on full rh...more
from XXXVII
And friends abroad must bear in mind
Friends at home they leave behind.
Oh, I shall be stiff and cold
When I forget you, hearts of hold;
The land where I shall mind you not
Is the land where all's forgot.
And if my foot returns no more
To Teme nor Corve nor Severn shore,
Luck, my lads, be with you still
By falling stream and standing hill,
By chiming tower and whispering tree,
Men that made a man of me.
About your...more
And friends abroad must bear in mind
Friends at home they leave behind.
Oh, I shall be stiff and cold
When I forget you, hearts of hold;
The land where I shall mind you not
Is the land where all's forgot.
And if my foot returns no more
To Teme nor Corve nor Severn shore,
Luck, my lads, be with you still
By falling stream and standing hill,
By chiming tower and whispering tree,
Men that made a man of me.
About your...more
I forgot I was reading this until I came across it tidying up. There are some excellent verses here. It does seem slightly disjointed (probably doesn't help that I waited so long before finishing it).
Some of my favorites:
LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take fro...more
Some of my favorites:
LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take fro...more
The much-anthologized lyrics everyone remembers from this slim volume are memorable for their delicate music and Attic restraint, but many of the sixty-three poems contained herein are pretty forgettable. Reiterating the familiar themes of youthful beauty and early death without deepening or enriching them, they often veer dangerously close to self-parody. Still . . . "Loveliest of trees, the cherry now," "To an Athlete Dying Young," "Bredon Hill," "With rue ...more
I probably would never have read this book. However, when I read that a recording by Pete Postlethwaite (one of my favorite actors) of one of the poems from "A Shropshire Lad" was played at his funeral my interest was piqued. Pete read poem XXVII "Is My Team Ploughing?", a conversation between a dead youth and a living friend in which he expresses concern for the partner he left behind. Overall, I thought these poems of a bygone age were enjoyable but they didn't stir me deep...more
Two of my favorites:
XIII
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for...more
XIII
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for...more
I read this book annually and love it every time. The poems have a rhythm that few modern poets would dare but the depth of emotion and feeling it not smothered thereby. I've had "Loveliest of trees the cherry now..." memorized for years and still come back to this book.
There's a fantastic poem at the end of this collection...can't remember the name of it right now. I think there's a line in it about "looking into the pewter pot to see the world as the world's not". Probably misquoted...you'll have to read it yourself.
I absolutely loved Housman's poetry. It has a flow to it that just allows for reading that is beautiful whether you spend one minute or one hour reading it. Although many of the poems are a bit morbid they do not have a creepiness to them. Housman truly was a master at his language and this book shows that. Read it!
There are some nice lyrical moments but on the whole the repetitive "Ecclesiastes" type theme gets old fairly quick. Almost every poem is about death, and many of them say much the same thing in much the same way.
My clear favorites are "March" and "When I was one and twenty." Every poem after the half way mark left me wondering why I was continuing reading this book...Death is a clear theme. I decided not to keep going because it started to feel redundant, and I don't want to waste time.
However, he writes beautiful poems and I only wish there had been more written about another topic.
However, he writes beautiful poems and I only wish there had been more written about another topic.
Can't find my copy. I am not sure that this is a TDDIP but I Neeed to read it sometimes and get a bit panicky when I can't find it.
Structurally repetitive, emotionally flat and frequently false-sounding. You probably already know the best, and the rest aren't worth it.
Lovely collection of poetry, accessible and thought provoking. A pleasure to read.
My favourites are 6, 9, 14, 16, 26, 43, 45 and 48.
My favourites are 6, 9, 14, 16, 26, 43, 45 and 48.
Along with Thomas Hardy a poet of true talent froa similar time in the early 20th. Houseman had real trouble writing after 'Shropshire' and I think it had to do with him not being able to refind his muse, the same conditions, the words.
I can understand. These poems are simply written but perfect meditations
on a young mans life in an imagined small town of the soul.
'When I was one-and-twenty / I heard him say again, / ‘The heart out of the bosom / Was never given in vain; / ’Ti...more
I can understand. These poems are simply written but perfect meditations
on a young mans life in an imagined small town of the soul.
'When I was one-and-twenty / I heard him say again, / ‘The heart out of the bosom / Was never given in vain; / ’Ti...more
Absolutely wonderful. A slim poetry collection about death and loss that ranks among the best I have read in a long time. Some call it pathetic, I call it genius.
I like Housman a lot. I think I have much of his same manic tone sometimes.
Risa
added it
A Shropshire Lad (Dover Thrift Editions) by A. E. Housman (1990)
One of the best first books of poetry ever, up there with Eliot's.
My favorite book of poems...
My favorite poem in here:
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am t...more
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am t...more
Couldn't see why it's so highly rated in some quarters; by turns morbid, life sapping and twee. In places little more than doggerel. It's perhaps a pity that the most memorable lines are: ""But oh, good Lord, the verse you make/It gives a chap the belly ache.""
I'm afraid I disagree with Hector over this particular issue so perhaps it's as well I didn't read it earlier. As another famous poet put it: ""Now that's done and I'm glad it's over"
I'm afraid I disagree with Hector over this particular issue so perhaps it's as well I didn't read it earlier. As another famous poet put it: ""Now that's done and I'm glad it's over"
Hands down the most moving thing I've read in years. Structurally and aesthetically it has the simplicity of a stone, but on a grander scale it's an avalanche of truth about mortality and a life well-lived.
There is a lot to like and admire in this slim book. There are a few wonderful poems, including some great lines ("Malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man") and some great images. The overarching sentimentality, though, just makes me impatient. I probably should have read this much younger. And been an athlete. Note to self . . .
Goofy. The best poems are the most popular ones, which is a shame. You're always hoping to go into a collection of poetry and find some less popular piece that "resonates" with you, some undiscovered gem like a b-side track that you can tout around and impress your friends with. Well, you won't find that here.
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Alfred Edward Houseman was born on March 26, 1859 in Fockbury, Worcestershire, England. He was an English scholar and celebrated poet whose lyrics express a Romantic pessimism in a spare, simple style. Housman regarded himself principally as a Latinist and avoided the literary world. In 1911 he became professor of Latin at Cambridge, teaching there almost up to his death. His major scholarly effor...more
More about A.E. Housman...
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“Stars, I have seen them fall,
But when they drop and die
No star is lost at all
From all the star-sown sky.
The toil of all that be
Helps not the primal fault;
It rains into the sea
And still the sea is salt.”
—
5 people liked it
But when they drop and die
No star is lost at all
From all the star-sown sky.
The toil of all that be
Helps not the primal fault;
It rains into the sea
And still the sea is salt.”
“When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
`Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
`The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.”
—
5 people liked it
More quotes…
I heard a wise man say,
`Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
`The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.”
