Be Still, My Soul, Be Still
Alfred Edward Housman 1859 – 1936
Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,
Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.
Think rather,-- call to thought, if now you grieve a little,
The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long.
Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.
Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,
I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see injustice done.
Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation;
All thoughts to rive the heart are here, and all are vain:
Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation--
Oh why did I awake? when shall I sleep again?
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 25, 2023
- 53 sec read
- 140 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABAB CDCD EEEE EXEX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 881 |
Words | 179 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4 |
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"Be Still, My Soul, Be Still" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/869/be-still,-my-soul,-be-still>.
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