Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/65

Rh That we sought you with rejoicings,

Till at evening we descry

At a pause of Siren voicings

These vexed branches and this howling sky?...

Oh, your pardon! The uncouthness

Of that primal age is gone,

And the skin of dazzling smoothness

Screens not now a heart of stone.

Love has flushed those cruel faces;

And those slackened arms forego

The delight of death-embraces,

And yon whitening bone-mounds do not grow.

"Ah!" you say;" the large appearance

Of man's labor is but vain,

And we plead as stanch adherence

Due to pleasure as to pain."

Pointing to earth's careworn creatures,

"Come," you murmur with a sigh:

"Ah! we own diviner features,

Loftier bearing, and a prouder eye.

"Come," you say, "the hours were dreary;

Life without love does not fade;

Vain it wastes, and we grew weary

In the slumbrous cedarn shade.

Round our hearts with long caresses,

With low sighings, Silence stole,

And her load of steaming tresses

Weighed, like Ossa, on the aery soul.