To The Duke Of Wellington

A poem by Matthew Arnold

Because thou hast believ’d, the wheels of life
Stand never idle, but go always round:
Not by their hands, who vex the patient ground,
Mov’d only; but by genius, in the strife
Of all its chafing torrents after thaw,
Urg’d; and to feed whose movement, spinning sand,
The feeble sons of pleasure set their hand:
And, in this vision of the general law,
Hast labour’d with the foremost, hast become
Laborious, persevering, serious, firm;
For this, thy track, across the fretful foam
Of vehement actions without scope or term,
Call’d History, keeps a splendour: due to wit,
Which saw one clue to life, and follow’d it

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'To The Duke Of Wellington' by Matthew Arnold

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy