A. E. Housman was the favourite poet of the late Kingsley Amis,1 who paid apt tribute in a poem:
A. E. H.
Flame the westward skies adorning Leaves no like on holt or hill; Sounds of battle joined at morning Wane and wander and are still.
Past the standards rent and muddied, Past the careless heaps of slain, Stalks a redcoat who, unbloodied, Weeps with fury, not from pain.
Wounded lads, when to renew them Death and surgeons cross the shade, Still their cries, hug darkness to them; All at last in sleep are laid.
All save one, who nightlong curses Wounds imagined more than seen, Who in level tones rehearses What the fact of wounds must mean.2
- Level Tone
- Critical Essay
- Paradise Lost
- Plain Statement
- Bryn Mawr College
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