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But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts. And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts – A. E. Housman
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,The lads that will die in their glory and never be old. – A. E. Housman
And how am I to face the odds Of man’s bedevilment and God’s? I, a stranger and afraid In a world I never made. – A. E. Housman
To justify God’s ways to man. – A. E. Housman