“my depression works the graveyard shift / all the people that i’ve ghosted stand there in the room”

For Poetry Monday, another Housman take on the theme of Kipling’s poem from the previous week:

“Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,” A.E. Housman

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?


Also from A Shropshire Lad. Of note: most of the collection was written after falling unrequitedly in love with a man in the wake of Oscar Wilde’s trials for homosexual offenses.

---L.

Subject quote from Anti-Hero, Taylor Swift.