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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=456505" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Memorial Verses</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece,<br>Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease.<br>But one such death remain'd to come;<br>The last poetic voice is dumb--<br>We stand to-day by Wordsworth's tomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Byron's eyes were shut in death,<br>We bow'd our head and held our breath.<br>He taught us little; but our soul<br>Had felt him like the thunder's roll.<br>With shivering heart the strife we saw <br>Of passion with eternal law;<br>And yet with reverential awe<br>We watch'd the fount of fiery life<br>Which served for that Titanic strife.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When Goethe's death was told, we said:<br>Sunk, then, is Europe's sagest head.<br>Physician of the iron age,<br>Goethe has done his pilgrimage.<br>He took the suffering human race,<br>He read each wound, each weakness clear;<br>And struck his finger on the place,<br>And said: Thou ailest here, and here!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He look'd on Europe's dying hour<br>Of fitful dream and feverish power;<br>His eye plunged down the weltering strife,<br>The turmoil of expiring life--<br>He said: The end is everywhere,<br>Art still has truth, take refuge there!<br>And he was happy, if to know<br>Causes of things, and far below<br>His feet to see the lurid flow<br>Of terror, and insane distress,<br>And headlong fate, be happiness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Wordsworth!--Ah, pale ghosts, rejoice!<br>For never has such soothing voice<br>Been to your shadowy world convey'd,<br>Since erst, at morn, some wandering shade<br>Heard the clear song of Orpheus come<br>Through Hades, and the mournful gloom.<br>Wordsworth has gone from us--and ye,<br>Ah, may ye feel his voice as we!<br>He too upon a wintry clime<br>Had fallen--on this iron time<br>Of doubts, disputes, distractions, fears.<br>He found us when the age had bound<br>Our souls in its benumbing round;<br>He spoke, and loosed our heart in tears.<br>He laid us as we lay at birth<br>On the cool flowery lap of earth,<br>Smiles broke from us and we had ease;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hills were round us, and the breeze<br>Went o'er the sun-lit fields again;<br>Our foreheads felt the wind and rain.<br>Our youth return'd; for there was shed<br>On spirits that had long been dead,<br>Spirits dried up and closely furl'd,<br>The freshness of the early world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! since dark days still bring to light<br>Man's prudence and man's fiery might,<br> Time may restore us in his course<br>Goethe's sage mind and Byron's force;<br>But where will Europe's latter hour<br>Again find Wordsworth's healing power?<br>Others will teach us how to dare,<br>And against fear our breast to steel;<br>Others will strengthen us to bear--<br>But who, ah! who, will make us feel?<br>The cloud of mortal destiny,<br>Others will front it fearlessly--<br>But who, like him, will put it by?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Keep fresh the grass upon his grave,<br>O Rotha, with thy living wave!<br>Sing him thy best! for few or none<br>Hears thy voice right, now he is gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>April 1850</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Arnold">Matthew Arnold</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=456505" data-title="Memorial Verses de Matthew Arnold" data-description="Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece,
Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease.
But one such death remain'd to come;
The last poetic voice is dumb--
We stand to-day by Wordsworth's tomb.

When Byron's eyes were shut in death,
We bow'd our head and he..."></div>
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