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.

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.

Then gazing up 'mid the dim pillars high,
The foliaged marble forest where ye lie,
Hush, ye read more

Then gazing up 'mid the dim pillars high,
The foliaged marble forest where ye lie,
Hush, ye will say, it is eternity!
This is the glimmering verge of heaven, and there
The columns of the heavenly palaces.

This strange disease of modern life,
With its sick hurry, its divided aims.

This strange disease of modern life,
With its sick hurry, its divided aims.

Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he who finds himself, loses his misery. -Matthew Arnold.

Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he who finds himself, loses his misery. -Matthew Arnold.