| Matthew Arnold (182288). The Poems of Matthew Arnold, 18401867. 1909. | | | | The Strayed Reveller, and Other Poems | | The World and the Quietist |
| | TO CRITIAS [First published 1849. Reprinted 1855.] Why, when the Worlds great mind | |
| Hath finally inclind, | |
| Why, you say, Critias, be debating still? | |
| Why, with these mournful rhymes | |
| Learnd in more languid climes, | 5 |
| Blame our activity, | |
| Who, with such passionate will, | |
| Arc, what we mean to be? | |
| |
| Critias, long since, I know, | |
| (For Fate decreed it so,) | 10 |
| Long since the World hath set its heart to live. | |
| Long since with credulous zeal | |
| It turns Lifes mighty wheel; | |
| Still doth for labourers send, | |
| Who still their labour give; | 15 |
| And still expects an end. | |
| |
| Yet, as the wheel flies round, | |
| With no ungrateful sound | |
| Do adverse voices fall on the Worlds ear. | |
| Deafend by his own stir | 20 |
| The rugged Labourer | |
| Caught not till then a sense | |
| So glowing and so near | |
| Of his omnipotence. | |
| |
| So, when the feast grew loud | 25 |
| In Susas palace proud, | |
| A white-robd slave stole to the Monarchs side. | |
| He spoke: the Monarch heard: | |
| Felt the slow-rolling word | |
| Swell his attentive soul. | 30 |
| Breathd deeply as it died, | |
| And draind his mighty bowl. | | | | |
|
|