Author: Matthew Arnold

The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples’ eyes; ВЂ˜The old law’, they […]

A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of […]

Hark! ah, the nightingale – The tawny-throated! Hark, from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark!-what pain! O […]

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

Even in a palace, life may be led well! So spake the imperial sage, purest of men, Marcus Aurelius. But […]

The evening comes, the fields are still. The tinkle of the thirsty rill, Unheard all day, ascends again; Deserted is […]

Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel’s prow […]

We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still, In […]

What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? […]

Crouch’d on the pavement close by Belgrave Square A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied; A babe was in […]