A Question

Matthew Arnold(1822–1888)

1867

Joy comes and goes, hope ebbs and flowsLike the wave;Change doth unknit the tranquil strength of men.Love lends life a little grace,A few sad smiles; and thenBoth are laid in one cold place,—In the grave.

Dreams dawn and fly, friends smile and dieLike spring flowers;Our vaunted life is one long funeral.Men dig graves with bitter tearsFor their dead hopes; and all,Mazed with doubts and sick with fears,Count the hours.

We count the hours! These dreams of ours,False and hollow,Do we go hence, and find they are not dead?Joys we dimly apprehendFaces that smiled and fled,Hopes born here, and born to end,Shall we follow?

From The Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold, via the English Wikisource transcription.

Public domainThis poem is in the public domain. You may read it, copy it, recite it and publish it without asking anyone.