Matthew Arnold

With aching hands and bleeding feet
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the read more

With aching hands and bleeding feet
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day, and wish 'twere done.
Not till the hours of light return
All we have built as we discern.

On Sundays, at the matin-chime,
The Alpine peasants, two and three,
Climb up here to pray;
read more

On Sundays, at the matin-chime,
The Alpine peasants, two and three,
Climb up here to pray;
Burghers and dames, at summer's prime,
Ride out to church from Chamberry,
Dight with mantles gay,
But else it is a lonely time
Round the Church of Brou.

And see all sights from pole to pole
And glance, and nod, and bustle by,
And never read more

And see all sights from pole to pole
And glance, and nod, and bustle by,
And never once possess our soul
Before we die.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before read more

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain.

Children of men! the unseen Power, whose eye
Forever doth accompany mankind,
Hath look'd on no religion read more

Children of men! the unseen Power, whose eye
Forever doth accompany mankind,
Hath look'd on no religion scornfully
That men did ever find.