November, 1857
Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)
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, 5
Silent;-hardly a shout
>From a few boys late at their play!
The lights come out in the street,
In the school-room windows;-but cold,
Solemn, unlighted, austere, 10
Through the gathering darkness, arise
The chapel-walls, in whose bound
Thou, my father! art laid.
There thou dost lie, in the gloom Of the autumn evening. But ah! 15 That word, gloom, to my mind Brings thee back, in the light Of thy radiant vigor, again; In the gloom of November we pass'd Days not dark at thy side; 20 Seasons impair'd not the ray Of thy buoyant cheerfulness clear. Such thou wast! and I stand In the autumn evening and think Of bygone autumns with thee. 25
Fifteen years have gone round Since thou arosest to tread, In the summer-morning, the road Of death, at a call unforeseen, Sudden. For fifteen years, 30 We who till then in thy shade Rested as under the boughs Of a mighty oak, have endured Sunshine and rain as we might, Bare, unshaded, alone, 35 Lacking the shelter of thee.
O strong soul, by what shore Tarriest thou now? For that force, Surely, has not been left vain! Somewhere, surely, afar, 40 In the sounding labor-house vast Of being, is practised that strength, Zealous, beneficent, firm!
Yes, in some far-shining sphere, Conscious or not of the past, 45 Still thou performest the word Of the Spirit in whom thou dost live- Prompt, unwearied, as here! Still thou upraisest with zeal The humble good from the ground, 50 Sternly repressest the bad! Still, like a trumpet, dost rouse Those who with half-open eyes Tread the border-land dim Twixt vice and virtue; reviv'st, 55 Succorest!-this was thy work; This was thy life upon earth.
What is the course of the life Of mortal men on the earth?- Most men eddy about 60 Here and there-eat and drink, Chatter and love and hate, Gather and squander, are raised Aloft, are hurl'd in the dust, Striving blindly, achieving 65 Nothing; and then they die- Perish;-and no one asks Who or what they have been, More than he asks what waves, In the moonlit solitudes mild 70 Of the midmost Ocean, have swell'd, Foam'd for a moment, and gone.
And there are some, whom a thirst
Ardent, unquenchable, fires,
Not with the crowd to be spent, 75
Not without aim to go round
In an eddy of purposeless dust,
Effort unmeaning and vain.
Ah yes! some of us strive
Not without action to die 80
Fruitless, but something to snatch
>From dull oblivion, nor all
Glut the devouring grave!
We, we have chosen our path-
Path to a clear-purposed goal, 85
Path of advance!-but it leads
A long, steep journey, through sunk
Gorges, o'er mountains in snow.
Cheerful, with friends, we set forth-
Then on the height, comes the storm. 90
Thunder crashes from rock
To rock, the cataracts reply,
Lightnings dazzle our eyes.
Roaring torrents have breach'd
The track, the stream-bed descends 95
In the place where the wayfarer once
Planted his footstep-the spray
Boils o'er its borders! aloft
The unseen snow-beds dislodge
Their hanging ruin; alas, 100
Havoc is made in our train!
Friends who set forth at our side,
Falter, are lost in the storm.
We, we only are left!
With frowning foreheads, with lips 105
Sternly compress'd, we strain on,
On-and at nightfall at last
Come to the end of our way,
To the lonely inn 'mid the rocks;
Where the gaunt and taciturn host 110
Stands on the threshold, the wind
Shaking his thin white hairs-
Holds his lantern to scan
Our storm-beat figures, and asks:
Whom in our party we bring? 115
Whom we have left in the snow?
Sadly we answer: We bring Only ourselves! we lost Sight of the rest in the storm. Hardly ourselves we fought through, 120 Stripp'd, without friends, as we are. Friends, companions, and train, The avalanche swept from our side.
But thou would'st not alone Be saved, my father! alone 125 Conquer and come to thy goal, Leaving the rest in the wild. We were weary, and we Fearful, and we in our march Fain to drop down and to die. 130 Still thou turnedst, and still Beckonedst the trembler, and still Gavest the weary thy hand.
If, in the paths of the world, Stones might have wounded thy feet, 135 Toil or dejection have tried Thy spirit, of that we saw Nothing-to us thou wast still Cheerful, and helpful, and firm! Therefore to thee it was given 140 Many to save with thyself; And, at the end of thy day, O faithful shepherd! to come, Bringing thy sheep in thy hand.
And through thee I believe 145 In the noble and great who are gone; Pure souls honor'd and blest By former ages, who else- Such, so soulless, so poor, Is the race of men whom I see- 150 Seem'd but a dream of the heart, Seem'd but a cry of desire. Yes! I believe that there lived Others like thee in the past, Not like the men of the crowd 155 Who all round me to-day Bluster or cringe, and make life Hideous, and arid, and vile; But souls temper'd with fire, Fervent, heroic, and good, 160 Helpers and friends of mankind.
Servants of God!-or sons Shall I not call you? because Not as servants ye knew Your Father's innermost mind, 165 His, who unwillingly sees One of his little ones lost- Yours is the praise, if mankind Hath not as yet in its march Fainted, and fallen, and died! 170
See! In the rocks of the world Marches the host of mankind, A feeble, wavering line. Where are they tending?-A God Marshall'd them, gave them their goal. 175 Ah, but the way is so long! Years they have been in the wild! Sore thirst plagues them, the rocks, Rising all round, overawe; Factions divide them, their host 180 Threatens to break, to dissolve. -Ah, keep, keep them combined! Else, of the myriads who fill That army, not one shall arrive; Sole they shall stray; in the rocks 185 Stagger for ever in vain. Die one by one in the waste.
Then, in such hour of need Of your fainting, dispirited race Ye, like angels, appear, 190 Radiant with ardor divine! Beacons of hope, ye appear! Languor is not in your heart, Weakness is not in your word, Weariness not on your brow. 195 Ye alight in our van! at your voice, Panic, despair, flee away. Ye move through the ranks, recall The stragglers, refresh the outworn, Praise, re-inspire the brave! 200 Order, courage, return; Eyes rekindling, and prayers, Follow your steps as ye go. Ye fill up the gaps in our files, Strengthen the wavering line, 205 Stablish, continue our march, On, to the bound of the waste, On, to the City of God.