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Poem by Matthew Arnold


To a Friend


Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind?--
He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men,
Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen,
And Tmolus hill, and Smyrna bay, though blind.

Much he, whose friendship I not long since won,
That halting slave, who in Nicopolis
Taught Arrian, when Vespasian's brutal son
Cleared Rome of what most shamed him. But be his

My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul,
From first youth tested up to extreme old age,
Business could not make dull, nor passion wild;

Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole;
The mellow glory of the Attic stage,
Singer of sweet Colonus, and its child. 



Matthew Arnold


Matthew Arnold's other poems:
  1. To George Cruikshank
  2. To the Duke of Wellington
  3. Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse
  4. In Harmony with Nature
  5. Heines Grave


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Anna Barbauld To a Friend ("May never more of pensive melancholy")
  • William Bowles To a Friend ("Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng!")
  • William Shenstone To a Friend ("Have you ne'er seen, my gentle Squire!")
  • Joseph Drake To a Friend ("Yes, faint was my applause and cold my praise")
  • James Fields To a Friend ("Go, with a manly heart")
  • Richard Hovey To a Friend ("ALL too grotesque our thoughts are sometimes")
  • Amy Lowell To a Friend ("I ask but one thing of you, only one")
  • James Lowell To a Friend ("One strip of bark may feed the broken tree")
  • John Pierpont To a Friend ("Friend of my dark and solitary hour")

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