There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.
A. E. HousmanRead
Wanderers eastward, wanderers west, Know you why you cannot rest? 'Tis that every mother's son Travails with a skeleton. Lie down in the bed of dust; Bear the fruit that bear you must; Bring the eternal seed to light, And morn is all the same as night.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the inevitability of life's struggles and the inescapable nature of mortality.
In this poem, A. E. Housman explores the universal plight of humanity, suggesting that each person carries their own burdens, represented metaphorically as a 'skeleton.' The refrain underscores the idea that life is a continuous cycle of struggle and aging, and regardless of our wanderings and endeavors, we all face the same ultimate fate—accepting our mortality and the responsibilities that come with life.
In practice
In a reflection on life's challenges, I shared this quote at a philosophy seminar.
There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.
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.
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.
Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.
And malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man.
Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking_x000D_ _x000D_ Spins the heavy world around.
The world is a reflection of who we are and if we don't like the reflection, it doesn't really help to break the mirror.
It is an absurdity to believe that the Deity has human passions, and one of the lowest of human passions, a restless appetite for applause
Everything that is,casts a shadow
The vast distances that separate the stars are providential. Beings and worlds are quarantined from one another. The quarantine is lifted only for those with sufficient self-knowledge and judgment to have safely traveled from star to star.
Honor and shame from no condition rise. Act well your part: there all the honor lies.
Being tolerant does not mean that I share another one's belief. But it does mean that I acknowledge another one's right to believe, and obey, his own conscience.
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