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A review by satyridae
A Shropshire Lad by A.E. Housman
5.0
8/2012 I come to Housman when I'm hollow, when I'm lost, when I'm confused. I come here when I need to come here, and he takes me in, he comforts me with snark, with acute observation, with hilarity and bottomless woe. There's nobody, nobody at all like Housman. I have entire swaths of this by heart, and generally read a poem or two at need. Today I read it cover to cover and was, once again, entirely blown away.
2010: What's to say of Housman? His words are like strange wine that changes one utterly once imbibed.
"...that grace, that manhood gone..."
2010: What's to say of Housman? His words are like strange wine that changes one utterly once imbibed.
"...that grace, that manhood gone..."