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Canned Christmas music drifted out from a shop as they passed and both felt that undertow of sadness from which Christmas in adulthood is rarely free, Robin
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. A. E. Housman IX, Last Poems
No minute gone comes ever back again, Take heed and see ye do nothing in vain.
Ale, man, ale’s the stuff to drink For fellows whom it hurts to think: Look into the pewter pot To see the world as the world’s not. And faith, ’tis pleasant till ’tis past: The mischief is that ’twill not last. A. E. Housman LXII, A Shropshire Lad
The stars have not dealt me the worst they can
do: My pleasures are plenty, my troubles are two. But oh, my two troubles they reave me of rest, The brains in my head and the heart in my breast. A. E. Housman XVII,
Additiona...
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Slow, slow and softly, where she stood, She sinks upon the ground;—her hood Had fallen back, her arms outspread Still hold her lover’s hands; her head Is bow’d, half-buried, on the bed. Matthew Arnold Tristram and Iseult
Oh, many a month before I learn Will find me starting still And listening, as the days return, For him that never will. A. E. Housman XLII: A. J. J., More Poems
Life, misfortune, isolation, abandonment, poverty, are battle-fields, which have their heroes,—heroes obscure, but sometimes greater than those who become illustrious. Albert Pike Morals and Dogma of the Ancient and Accepted Rite of Scottish Freemasonry
Robin. ‘Griffiths and I both want Tyler found, though for
same size as Strike himself, with a fat neck
