There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.
A. E. HousmanRead
Into my hear an air that kills through yon far country blows what are those blue remembered hills what spires,what farms are those? that is the land of lost content I can see it shining plain the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects a deep longing for a lost past and the beauty of memories.
In this poignant quote, A. E. Housman captures the essence of nostalgia as he reminisces about a bygone time and the landscapes that evoked happiness. He presents a vivid image of blue hills and faraway places that symbolize his lost youthful experiences, highlighting the bittersweet nature of memories that once brought joy but can never be revisited.
Themes
NostalgiaMemoryPastLongingBeauty
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a speech about the importance of cherishing memories as we grow older.
More from A. E. Housman
All quotes →Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.
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I am not a pessimist but a pejorist (as George Eliot said she was not an optimist but a meliorist); and that philosophy is founded on my observation of the world, not on anything so trivial and irrelevant as personal history.
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Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.
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And malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.
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Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking_x000D_ _x000D_ Spins the heavy world around.
A. E. HousmanRead
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Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime!
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Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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I am suddenly comsumed by nostalgia for the little girl who was me, who loved the fields and believed in God, who spent winter days home sick from school reading Nancy Drew and sucking menthol cough drops, who could keep a secret.
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You can call it nostalgia, I don't mind Standing on that windswept hillside Listening to the church bells chime Listen to the church bells chime In that magic time.
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