Matthew Arnold ( 10 of 61 )
Strew on her roses, roses, / And never a spray of yew. / In quiet she reposes: / Ah! would read more
Strew on her roses, roses, / And never a spray of yew. / In quiet she reposes: / Ah! would that I did too!
But each day brings its petty dust our soon-choked souls to fill, and we forget because we must, and not read more
But each day brings its petty dust our soon-choked souls to fill, and we forget because we must, and not because we will.
No, no! The energy of life may be
Kept on after the grave, but not begun;
And read more
No, no! The energy of life may be
Kept on after the grave, but not begun;
And he who flagg'd not in the earthly strife,
From strength to strength advancing--only he
His soul well-knit, and all his battles won,
Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life.
Poetry is simply the most beautiful, impressive, and widely effective mode of saying things
Poetry is simply the most beautiful, impressive, and widely effective mode of saying things
Every time the words "contrition" or "humility" drop from the lips of a prophet or psalmist, Christianity appears.
Every time the words "contrition" or "humility" drop from the lips of a prophet or psalmist, Christianity appears.
Others abide our question. Thou art free.
We ask and ask--Thou smilest and art still,
Out-topping knowledge.
Others abide our question. Thou art free.
We ask and ask--Thou smilest and art still,
Out-topping knowledge.
Nature's great law, and law of all men's minds?--
To its own impulse every creature stirs;
Live read more
Nature's great law, and law of all men's minds?--
To its own impulse every creature stirs;
Live by thy light, and earth will live by hers!
What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The lustre read more
What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The lustre of the eye?
Is it for Beauty to forego her wreath?
Yes; but not this alone.
Wandering between two worlds, one dead,
The other powerless to be born
With nowhere yet to rest read more
Wandering between two worlds, one dead,
The other powerless to be born
With nowhere yet to rest my head,
Like these, on earth I wait forlorn.
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.
