I once read a line attributed to Housman that validated my own unschooled but heartfelt encounter with song and poetry.   When a hi-strung teenager - after a stillness came over the remainder of our cramped house - I would often lowly tune into late night Philly radio. There were certain songs (not many) that delivered a physical thrill to me where my hair would stand on end at hearing certain passages sung there in the dark. (no, I am not talking about that other night activity - that was an activity set apart from what I am describing here - please get your mind out of the gutter.)   :-)

The little thrill became a secret guide that would draw me to a certain song or singer. The lure of my secret thrill was such that
I eventually went out and became a 5 or 6 night a week pub singer... kind of an 'in search of' thing.

In the 1980s I got chance to work for nearly a decade with an American musician who had won a Senior All-Ireland title on his instrument.   One day we were over his place having a few tunes and listening to records (remember records?) and he turns to me during a Dick Gaughan song and says, "Look what his singing of this song does to me." All of the hair on his arms bristled.

In his introduction to "The White Goddess", Robert Graves states "A.E. Housman's test of a pure poem was simple and practical: does it make the hairs of one's chin bristle if one repeats it silently while shaving? But he did not explain why the hairs should bristle." I was delighted to have found this passage. I was happy to report to my friend that I had located our Pythagoras - that our Phila./Brooklyn reactions to song had been validated by an honest to gawd high-brow with the right sort of edjakayshun and accent.   What a relief!!

In my singing pursuits these days I still get that occasional physical payoff - decribed elsewhere in Graves as being that mixed feeling of fear and exhaltation at being in the presence of something (well, exalted and fearful and awesome). These days - mostly in the 'big ballads' - it might be felt as a surprise desire to suddenly weep while going thru a passage. I now view this aspect of my experience of song and poetry as a gift - as something to cherish and Housman's words (thru Graves) have become an affirmation, and perhaps a benediction, for me.