Matthew Arnold

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.

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.

One thing only has been lent to youth and age in common--discontent.

One thing only has been lent to youth and age in common--discontent.

The pursuit of the perfect, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and
light.

The pursuit of the perfect, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and
light.

I must not say that she was true,
Yet let me say that she was fair;
And read more

I must not say that she was true,
Yet let me say that she was fair;
And they, that lovely face who view,
They should not ask if truth be there.