Progress
The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples’ eyes; ‘The old law’, they said, ‘is wholly come to naught! Behold the new world rise!’ ‘Was it’, the Lord then said, ‘with scorn ye saw The old law observed by Scribes and Pharisees? I say unto you, see ye keep that law More faithfully than these! ‘Too hasty heads for ordering worlds, alas! Think not that I to annul the law have will’d; No jot, no tittle from the law shall pass, Till all hath been fulfill’d.’ So Christ said eighteen hundred years ago. And what then shall be said to those to-day, Who cry aloud to lay the old world low To clear the new world’s way? ‘Religious fervours! ardour misapplied! Hence, hence,’ they cry, ’ye do but keep man blind! But keep him self-immersed, preoccupied, And lame the active mind!’ Ah! from the old world let some one answer give: ‘Scorn ye this world, their tears, their inward cares? I say unto you, see that your souls live A deeper life than theirs! ‘Say ye:
The spirit of man has found new roads, And we must leave the old faiths, and walk therein?— Leave then the Cross as ye have left carved gods, But guard the fire within! ‘Bright, else, and fast the stream of life may roll, And no man may the other’s hurt behold; Yet each will have one anguish—his own soul Which perishes of cold.’ Here let that voice make end; then let a strain, From a far lonelier distance, like the wind Be heard, floating through heaven, and fill again These men’s profoundest mind: ‘Children of men! the unseen Power, whose eye For ever doth accompany mankind, Hath looked on no religion scornfully That men did ever find. ‘Which has not taught weak wills how much they can? Which has not fall’n on the dry heart like rain? Which has not cried to sunk, self-weary man: Thou must be born again! ‘Children of men! not that your age excel In pride of life the ages of your sires, But that you think clear, feel deep, bear fruit well, The Friend of man desires.’
Matthew Arnold
Other author posts
Rugby Chapel
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade into dimness apace, Silent;—hardly a shout From a few boys late at their play The lights come out in the street...
The Pagan World
In his cool hall, with haggard eyes, The Roman noble lay; He drove abroad, in furious guise, Along the Appian way
Longing
Come to me in my dreams, and By day I shall be well again For so the night will more than The hopeless longing of the day
Desire
Thou, who dost dwell alone; Thou, who dost know thine own; Thou, to whom all are known, From the cradle to the grave,-- Save, O, save From the world's temptations; From tribulations; From that fierce anguish Wherein we languish; From tha...
