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Matthew Arnold
Quote #23
I am past thirty, and three parts iced over.
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Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine.
Sanity - that is the great virtue of the ancient literature; the want of that is the great defect of the modern, in spite of its variety an…
How thick the bursts come crowding through the leaves! Again - thou hearest? Eternal passion! Eternal pain!
For rigorous teachers seized my youth, And purged its faith, and trimm'd its fire, Show'd me the high white star of Truth, There bade me ga…
Her cabin'd, ample Spirit, It flutter'd and fail'd for breath. To-night it doth inherit The vasty Hall of Death.
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 forlo…
Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew. In quiet she reposes: Ah! would that I did too.
The kings of modern thought are dumb.
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