Author: Matthew Arnold

God knows it, I am with you. If to prize Those virtues, priz’d and practis’d by too few, But priz’d, […]

How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village […]

Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron’s struggle cease. But one such death remain’d to come; The […]

Far, far from here, The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay Among the green Illyrian hills; and there The sunshine […]

Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great […]

Yes! in the sea of life enisled, With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal […]

Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy […]

In his cool hall, with haggard eyes, The Roman noble lay; He drove abroad, in furious guise, Along the Appian […]

Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from […]

The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through […]

Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither’d leaves, and the elms, Fade […]

Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O […]

Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless […]

A region desolate and wild. Black, chafing water: and afloat, And lonely as a truant child In a waste wood, […]

‘Twas August, and the fierce sun overhead Smote on the squalid streets of Bethnal Green, And the pale weaver, through […]

Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask-thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest […]

And the first grey of morning fill’d the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all […]

We were apart; yet, day by day, I bade my heart more constant be. I bade it keep the world […]

Who prop, thou ask’st in these bad days, my mind? He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men, Saw […]

As the kindling glances, Queen-like and clear, Which the bright moon lances From her tranquil sphere At the sleepless waters […]