Matthew Arnold

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.

Youth dreams a bliss on this side of death.
It dreams a rest, if not more deep,
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Youth dreams a bliss on this side of death.
It dreams a rest, if not more deep,
More grateful than this marble sleep;
It hears a voice within it tell:
Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well.
'Tis all perhaps which man acquires,
But 'tis not what our youth desires.

If Paris that brief flight allow,
My humble tomb explore!
It bears: "Eternity, be thou
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If Paris that brief flight allow,
My humble tomb explore!
It bears: "Eternity, be thou
My refuge!" and no more.

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls
a butterfly.

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls
a butterfly.