 | In the Dorian Mood |  |
81
ON A READING OF MATTHEW ARNOLD
Arnold is dead, and everyone forgets
His gracious doctrine, his hellenic creed,
His faith in light and sweetness. 'Tis indeed
So easy to repudiate our debts
Of heart and brain! When what one most regrets
Is stint of love, and ease, and wealth, who need
Go wail for culture? 'Tis a colourless weed
Which no one in his table nosegay sets.
His gracious doctrine, his hellenic creed,
His faith in light and sweetness. 'Tis indeed
So easy to repudiate our debts
Of heart and brain! When what one most regrets
Is stint of love, and ease, and wealth, who need
Go wail for culture? 'Tis a colourless weed
Which no one in his table nosegay sets.
Yet, great Oxonian, it were meet and fit
Could we but halt upon our daily stage
Of petty duty, dull mechanic task,
To meditate thy theme and hear thee ask,
‘Is conduct all? Are grace, and light, and wit,
Not chiefly good in this Bœotian age?’
Could we but halt upon our daily stage
Of petty duty, dull mechanic task,
To meditate thy theme and hear thee ask,
‘Is conduct all? Are grace, and light, and wit,
Not chiefly good in this Bœotian age?’
| In the Dorian Mood | |