Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/86

48 Strange unloved uproar

Shrills round their portal;

Yet not on Helicon

Kept they more cloudless

Their noble calm.

Through sun-proof alleys

In a lone, sand-hemmed

City of Africa,

A blind, led beggar,

Age-bowed, asks alms.

No bolder robber

Erst abode ambushed

Deep in the sandy waste;

No clearer eyesight

Spied prey afar.

Saharan sand-winds

Seared his keen eyeballs;

Spent is the spoil he won.

For him the present

Holds only pain.

Two young, fair lovers,

Where the warm June-wind,

Fresh from the summer fields

Plays fondly round them,

Stand, tranced in joy.

With sweet, joined voices,

And with eyes brimming,

"Ah!" they cry, "Destiny,

Prolong the present!

Time, stand still here!"