Matthew Arnold

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.

The Greek word euphuia, a finely tempered nature, gives exactly
the notion of perfection as culture brings us to read more

The Greek word euphuia, a finely tempered nature, gives exactly
the notion of perfection as culture brings us to perceive it; a
harmonious perfection, a perfection in which the characters of
beauty and intelligence are both present, which unites "the two
noblest of things"--as Swift . . . most happily calls them in his
Battle of the Books, "the two noblest of things, sweetness and
light."

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.

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.

Hark! ah, the nightingale--
The tawny-throated!
Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst!
read more

Hark! ah, the nightingale--
The tawny-throated!
Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst!
What triumph! hark!--what pain!
. . . .
Again--thou hearest?
Eternal passion!
Eternal pain!