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97
Matthew Arnold.
IN LALEHAM CHURCHYARD, APRIL, 1888.
Gone, without word, or touch, or hint of pain
Where the great visions of his earthly chase—
Sweet light and truth, and soul-appealing grace—
Stand full embodied. Surely not in vain
Our generation felt his high disdain
For all that narrowed good to time and race;
For all that wept in sordid common-place,
Or held life cramped in fashion's thoughtless chain.
Where the great visions of his earthly chase—
Sweet light and truth, and soul-appealing grace—
Stand full embodied. Surely not in vain
Our generation felt his high disdain
For all that narrowed good to time and race;
For all that wept in sordid common-place,
Or held life cramped in fashion's thoughtless chain.
Child of the Thames and Rotha,
o'er his rest
The poplar grieves, the river sobs and cries,
And souls that still unsatisfied must long
To know the highest and to think the best,
Sigh, in accord, the human undersong
Of loss, about the grave where Arnold lies.
The poplar grieves, the river sobs and cries,
And souls that still unsatisfied must long
To know the highest and to think the best,
Sigh, in accord, the human undersong
Of loss, about the grave where Arnold lies.
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