MATTHEW ARNOLD

The unfriendly palace in the Thracian wild?

Dost thou again peruse With hot cheeks and sear'd eyes The too clear web, and thy dumb Sister's shame ?

Dost thou once more assay Thy flight, and feel come over thee, Poor Fugitive, the feathery change Once more, and once more seem to make resound With love and hate, triumph and agony, Lone Daulis, and the high Cephissian vale ?

Listen, Eugenia How thick the bursts come crowding through the leaves

Again thou hearest ! Eternal Passion ! Eternal Pain !

��Shakespeare

OTHERS abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask: Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill That to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place. Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foil'd searching of mortality ; And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know Self-schooFd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self-secure, Didst walk on earth unguess'd at. Better so ! All pains the immortal spirit must endure,

All weakness that impairs, all griefs that bow, Find their sole voice in that victorious brow.

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