My opinions on poetry are necessarily tinged, perhaps I should say tainted, by the circumstance that I have come into contact with it on two sides. We were saying a while ago that poetry is a very wide term, and inconveniently comprehensive: so comprehensive is it that it embraces two books, fortunately not large ones, of my own. I know how this stuff came into existence; and though I have no right to assume that any other poetry came into existence in the same way, yet I find reason to believe that some poetry, and quite good poetry, did. Wordsworth for instance says that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings, and Burns has left us this confession, ‘I have two or three times in my life composed from the wish rather than the impulse, but I never succeeded to any purpose.’ In short I think that the production of poetry, in its first stage, is less an active than a passive and involuntary process; and if I were obliged, not to define poetry, but to name the class of things to which it belongs, I should call it a secretion; whether a natural secretion, like turpentine in the fir, or a morbid secretion, like the pearl in the oyster. I think that my own case, though I may not deal with the material so cleverly as the oyster does, is the latter; because I have seldom written poetry unless I was rather out of health, and the experience, though pleasurable, was generally agitating and exhausting. If only that you may know what to avoid, I will give some account of the process.
Having drunk a pint of beer at luncheon – beer is a sedative to the brain, and my afternoons are the least intellectual portion of my life – I would go out for a walk of two or three hours. As I went along, thinking of nothing in particular, only looking at things around me and following the progress of the seasons, there would flow into my mind, with sudden and unaccountable emotion, sometimes a line or two of verse, sometimes a whole stanza at once, accompanied, not preceded, by a vague notion of the poem which they were destined to form part of. Then there would usually be a lull of an hour or so, then perhaps the spring would bubble up again. I say bubble up, because, so far as I could make out, the source of the suggestions thus proffered to the brain was an abyss which I have already had occasion to mention, the pit of the stomach. When I got home I wrote them down, leaving gaps, and hoping that further inspiration might be forthcoming another day. Sometimes it was, if I took my walks in a receptive and expectant frame of mind; but sometimes the poem had to be taken in hand and completed by the brain, which was apt to be a matter of trouble and anxiety, involving trial and disappointment, and sometimes ending in failure. I happen to remember distinctly the genesis of the piece which stands last in my first volume. Two of the stanzas, I do not say which, came into my head, just as they are printed, while I was crossing the corner of Hampstead Heath between the Spaniard’s Inn and the footpath to Temple Fortune. A third stanza came with a little coaxing after tea. One more was needed, but it did not come: I had to turn to and compose it myself, and that was a laborious business. I wrote it thirteen times, and it was more than a twelvemonth before I got it right.
By this time you must be sated with anatomy, pathology, and autobiography, and willing to let me retire from my incursion into the foreign territory of literary criticism. Farewell for ever. I will not say with Coleridge that I recentre my immortal mind in the deep sabbath of meek self-content; but I shall go back with relief and thankfulness to my proper job.
Notes on the Text
The text is that printed in the Oxford English Texts edition of The Poems of A. E. Housman, edited by Archie Burnett (1997). For A Shropshire Lad, the first edition (1896) is followed, but the two changes of wording Housman introduced in 1922 have been incorporated: ‘Loose’ for ‘Thick’ in XXXVIII, line 10, and ‘no more remembered’ for ‘long since forgotten’ in LII, line 9. For Last Poems, the text is that of the first edition (1922) with the addition of missing punctuation at the ends of the first two lines of XXVI, and with the title ‘Revolution’ for XXXVI, which Housman first gave in 1926 and which he authorized in 1928 for subsequent printings of the volume.
More Poems and Additional Poems were published posthumously by Housman’s brother Laurence. The text of many poems was misrepresented: poems not completed by Housman were printed as though complete; versions he cancelled were reinstated; separate texts were conflated; and many poems were mistranscribed from the manuscripts. For a detailed account of the complexities, readers are referred to Burnett’s introduction, textual notes, and apparatus in the Oxford English Texts edition.
Burnett’s copy-text is followed for More Poems and Additional Poems. Where the latest version of a poem contains uncancelled alternative readings – and the poem was not completed by Housman, therefore – what appears to be the latest reading is chosen. The other uncancelled readings (and only those) from the latest text of the poem are recorded among the notes below. The text of More Poems XLVIII contains two readings not found in the surviving manuscripts but which were probably based on manuscripts that Laurence Housman had seen. In the case of Additional Poems IV, readings are supplied not only from autograph manuscripts but from a typescript circulated by Laurence Housman before the publication of More Poems; once again, he had probably seen manuscripts that do not survive.
In the record of variant text, editorial matter appears inside square brackets, for instance when the text is reconstructed from sources other than the autograph manuscripts. Uncertain readings from the manuscripts are preceded by a question mark, and illegible readings are represented by a question mark alone. (The initial number refers to the line of the poem.)
MORE POEMS
They say my verse is sad
Laurence Housman printed this (in italic) as an epigraph to More Poems, though there is no indication that Housman himself would have wished this.
3: Rue for] Tears of 1st reading
5: This is for all ill-treated] I make it for unhappy 1st reading
II
Housman numbered the five verses printed here. Three additional verses exist in the Notebooks, but they stand in an indeterminate relation to the five.
8: rebellion] idolatry 1st reading
10: advent] covenant 1st reading
16: are] have [alt. will]
VII
3: lost] missed 1st reading
4: sown] stuck 1st reading
VIII
Laurence Housman printed this as a self-contained poem. Here it is presented as three unrelated quatrains.
VIIIC
1: remembers,] weeps long 1st reading
IX
1: hang] cling 1st reading
5: by hedgerow bowers] to the wild wood bowers 1st reading
7: fields] field 1st reading
X
5: a lost country] realms I see not 1st reading
XIII
1: and slumber] at even 1st reading
5: When] For 1st reading
7: at home] awake 1st reading; mind] guard 1st reading
The brackets at lines 9–11 signify missing lines of a projected stanza which never progressed beyond the last line (12).
XIV
2: Descried far off the steeples stand; 1st reading
12: The first word looks to have been ‘And’, but cutting at the bottom edge of the MS renders it not wholly legible.
XVIII
3: or so they say] to look all day [alt. the livelong day] 1st reading
4: read] gaze 1st reading
6: pace] roam 1st reading
10: And listen till] And [alt. Till] after dark 1st reading; Till nothing but 2nd reading
11: Is heard] Begin [alt. Begins] 1st reading
XIX
8: soiled] fouled 1st reading
11: spend] pass 1st reading
XX
3: all this noteless] this dissolving 1st reading
7: thralls of night] put to death 1st reading
11: I with the] Held fast with 1st reading
12: Shall sleep as sound] I shall sleep sound 1st reading
XXI
15: so] here 1st reading
XXIII
4: Count] Think 1st reading; Hope 2nd reading
5: fond lackey] bound [alts. brisk and prim] vassal [alt. lackey] 1st reading
XXV
1: flakes] morn alt. reading
fret] burns alt. reading
XXX
1: we shall never be friends; give over;] all’s over, I’ll try no longer; 1st reading
3: and] or 1st reading
4: And here’s nought better in [alts. I cannot mend it with and And [?] to mend it with] this dull head 1st reading
5: goodnight] good [alt. here’s] luck 1st reading
8: lad] fellow 1st reading
9: soul] lad 1st reading
XXXI
7–8: ‘Good-bye,’ said you, ‘forget me’; [?] [?said] I [?Good-bye] [alt. illegible] 1st reading
13: headstone shading] stone that[?’s] guarding (alts. [sign]ing and [shad]ing] 1st reading
14: heart] sleep 1st reading
XXXII
1–2: With seed [alt. I see] the sowers scatter / The fallows [alt. furrows] as they go 1st reading; The s[owers stride and] scatter / The ploughlands as they go 2nd reading
2: Behind] About 3rd reading
12: aye] still 1st reading; found] sure 1st reading
14: filler] peopler 1st reading
18–19: It throngs the earth [alt. streets] and towers / [?] About [alts. Against and Amongst and Above] the [?tombs] [alts. thrones and courts] of Kings 1st reading
XXXIII
21: home] round 2nd reading; we turned] went we 1st reading
22: To plains] By fields 1st reading; plains] homes 2nd reading
23: silent] steadfast 1st and 2nd readings
XXXIV
6: I think] ’tis like 1st reading
XXXVI
1: dead lie we] we lie dead 1st reading
XXXVIII
7: Yet] But 1st reading
XL
2: Resigned] Returned [alt. Recalled] 1st reading
5–6: So ceases and turns to the thing / He was born to be 1st reading
5: time coils round] travels the road 2nd reading
XLI
2: was not like] should [?not long] 1st reading
10: marching] walking 1st reading
XLII
1: I’ll tell him that, ’twill please him – oh, 1st reading; When he comes back I’ll say – ah, no: 2nd reading; I’ll tell him, [?] ah, no 3rd reading
2: Unsaid the word will stay: 1st reading; Dear fellow, [?] [alt. little fear:] 2nd reading
3: Last month was time enough, but now 1st reading
4: The news must keep for aye 1st reading
6: Unsaid the word must stay 1st reading; But that I shall not say; [alt will stay unsaid]; 2nd reading; And I had much to say 3rd reading
9: And many springs [alt. a May] before I learn, 1st reading
10: Will] And 1st reading
11: listening] hearkening 1st reading
XLIII
8: moors] gulfs 1st reading
XLVI
13: till] and 1st reading
17: highway of the sunset] [?caravel of sunset] 1st reading
XLVIII
4: While earth’s foundations stand More Poems (1936)
5: And sea and sky and land More Poems (1936)
ADDITIONAL POEMS
III
6: I doubt they [?] 1st reading
10: They will] I must 1st reading
12: aches] frets 1st reading
IV
1–2: It is no gift I offer / A loan is all I may 1st alt. version; It is no gift I offer, / A loan is all I can; 2nd alt. version; Here, take the loan I offer – / The gift I dare not say – 3rd alt. version
3–4: But take you yet the proffer, / Though ’tis not made for aye. 1st alt. version; But do not scorn the proffer, / Man gets no more from man. 2nd alt. version; But scorn not you the proffer, / Man gets no more from man. 3rd alt. version; The man will die, the proffer / Is mortal like the man. 4th alt. version; And never scorn the proffer / Because ’tis not for aye. 5th alt. version
4: Is not to keep for aye 6th reading; Is mortal like the man 7th reading
VI
7: fond of me] [alt. kind to me]
VIII
1: lap] bed 1st reading
IX
3: Then in [alts. to and on] my thoughts [alts. heart and tongue] the taste [alt. thought] is sour
X
4: hangs] seems 1st reading
XI
8: Except] But 1st reading
9: empty] barren 1st reading
10: bears] yields 1st reading
XIA
5: heart] flesh 1st reading
7: rivers] ocean 1st reading
XII
1: list] must 1st reading
6: Whole] Cured 1st reading
XIII
6: words] pains 1st reading
8: pursuing] the suing 1st reading
XV
1: An end] Lie down [alts. Halt here and Ground arms] 1st reading
2: I’ll march no further] Lie down, ’tis over 1st reading
XIX
6: breaches] wrenches 1st reading
13: rejoicing] thanksgiving 1st reading
Index of First Lines
Alas, the country whence I fare, 147
Along the field as we came by 34
And one remembers, and one forgets, 148
As I gird on for fighting 87
As through the wild green hills of Wyre 47
Ask me no more, for fear I should reply; 199
Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle, 63
Because I liked you better 171
Bells in tower at evening toll, 157
Beyond the moor and mountain crest 85
Bring, in this timeless grave to throw, 60
By shores and woods and steeples 178
Clunton and Clunbury, 65
Could man be drunk for ever 95
Crossing alone the nighted ferry 163
Delight it is in youth and May 158
‘Far I hear the bugle blow 72
Far in a western brookland 67
Far known to sea and shore, 184
Farewell to a name and a number 180
‘Farewell to barn and stack and tree, 13
For these of old the trader 139
From Clee to heaven the beacon burns, 3
From far, from eve and morning 42
From the wash the laundress sends 169
Give me a land of boughs in leaf, 146
Good creatures, do you love your lives 166
Good-night; ensured release, 189
Half-way, for one commandment broken, 175
He, standing hushed, a pace or two apart, 168
He is here, Urania’s son, 110
He looked at me with eyes I thought 181
He stood, and heard the steeple 101
He would not stay for me; and who can wonder? 200
Hearken, landsmen, hearken, seamen, 186
Her strong enchantments failing, 88
Here are the skies, the planets seven, 198
Here dead lie we because we did not choose 176
‘Here the hangman stops his cart: 61
High the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam 37
Ho, everyone that thirsteth 162
Home is the sailor, home from sea: 218
How clear, how lovely bright, 156
I did not lose my heart in summer’s even, 177
I hoed and trenched and weeded, 81
I lay me down and slumber 153
I listed at home for a lancer, 91
I promise nothing: friends will part; 152
I shall not die for you, 214
I to my perils 144
I wake from dreams and turning 183
I walked alone and thinking, 117
If in that Syrian garden, ages slain, 137
If it chance your eye offend you, 59
If truth in hearts that perish 43
In bat
tles of no renown 213
In heaven-high musings and many, 226
In midnights of November, 105
In my own shire, if I was sad, 52
In summertime on Bredon 28
In the morning, in the morning, 109
In valleys green and still 92
Into my heart an air that kills 51
‘Is my team ploughing, 35
It is no gift I tender, 197
It nods and curtseys and recovers 22
Leave your home behind, lad, 6
Like mine, the veins of these that slumber 160
Loitering with a vacant eye 66
Look not in my eyes, for fear 21
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now 5
‘Lydians, lords of Hermus river, 193
Morning up the eastern stair 204
My dreams are of a field afar 179
Now do our eyes behold 223
Now dreary dawns the eastern light, 115
Now hollow fires burn out to black, 76
Now to her lap the incestuous earth 201
O thou that from thy mansion 188
O youth whose heart is right, 140
‘Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be? 44
Oh, when I was in love with you, 24
Oh fair enough are sky and plain, 27
Oh hard is the bed they have made him, 89
‘Oh is it the jar of nations, 208
Oh on my breast in days hereafter 203
Oh see how thick the goldcup flowers 9
Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough 129
Oh turn not in from marching 207