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Poem by Alfred Edward Housman


More Poems. 19. The Mill-Stream, Now that Noises Cease


The mill-stream, now that noises cease,
Is all that does not hold its peace;
Under the bridge it murmurs by,
And here are night and hell and I.

Who made the world I cannot tell:
ТTis made, and here I am in hell.
My hand, though now my knuckles bleed,
I never soiled with such a deed.

And so, no doubt, in time gone by
Some have suffered more than I,
Who only spend the night alone
And strike my fist upon the stone.



Alfred Edward Housman


Alfred Edward Housman's other poems:
  1. Last Poems. 20. The Night Is Freezing Fast
  2. More Poems. 14. The Farms of Home Lie Lost in Even
  3. More Poems. 11. The Rainy Pleiads Wester
  4. More Poems. 28. He, Standing Hushed, a Pace or Two Apart
  5. More Poems. 46. The Land of Biscay


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