Matthew Arnold

(1822-1888 / Middlesex / England)

Matthew Arnold Poems

1. A Dream 4/2/2010
2. A Summer Night 4/2/2010
3. A Wish 12/31/2002
4. Absence 4/2/2010
5. Apollo Musagetes 5/6/2001
6. Austerity Of Poetry 4/2/2010
7. Bacchanalia 1/3/2003
8. Cadmus And Harmonia 5/6/2001
9. Consolation 5/6/2001
10. Desire 4/2/2010
11. Dover Beach 5/6/2001
12. East London 12/31/2002
13. Epilogue To Lessing's Laocooen 4/2/2010
14. From The Hymn Of Empedocles 5/6/2001
15. Geist's Grave 4/2/2010
16. Growing Old 12/31/2002
17. Hayeswater 12/31/2002
18. Human Life 4/2/2010
19. Immortality 5/6/2001
20. Isolation: To Marguerite 5/6/2001
21. Kaiser Dead 4/2/2010
22. Lines Written In Kensington Gardens 5/6/2001
23. Longing 12/31/2002
24. Memorial Verses 5/6/2001
25. Morality 5/6/2001
26. Mycerinus 5/6/2001
27. Obermann Once More 5/6/2001
28. Palladium 5/6/2001
29. Philomela 5/6/2001
30. Progress 1/1/2004
31. Quiet Work 5/6/2001
32. Requiescat 5/6/2001
33. Revolutions 4/2/2010
34. Rugby Chapel 5/6/2001
35. Saint Brandan 4/2/2010
36. Self-Dependence 5/6/2001
37. Shakespeare 5/6/2001
38. Sohrab And Rustum 12/31/2002
39. Stanzas From The Grande Chartreuse 5/6/2001
40. The Better Part 4/2/2010
Best Poem of Matthew Arnold

Dover Beach

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; - on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness ...

Read the full of Dover Beach

To A Republican Friend

God knows it, I am with you. If to prize
Those virtues, priz'd and practis'd by too few,
But priz'd, but lov'd, but eminent in you,
Man's fundamental life: if to despise
The barren optimistic sophistries
Of comfortable moles, whom what they do
Teaches the limit of the just and true--
And for such doing have no need of eyes:
If sadness at teh long heart-wasting show

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