The Last Word
Matthew Arnold
Creep into thy narrow bed, Creep, and let no more be said! Vain thy onset! all stands fast. Thou thyself must break at last! Let the long contention cease! Geese are swans, and swans are geese. Let them have it how they will! Thou art tired; best be still! They out-talked thee, hissed thee, tore thee? Better men fared thus before thee; Fired their ringing shot and passed, Hotly charged—and sank at last. Charge once more, then, and be dumb! Let the victors, when they come, When thy forts of folly fail, Find thy body by the wall!
Next 10 Poems
- Matthew Arnold : The Pagan World
- Matthew Arnold : The Scholar Gypsy
- Matthew Arnold : The Song Of Callicles
- Matthew Arnold : The Song Of Empedocles
- Matthew Arnold : The Strayed Reveller
- Matthew Arnold : The Voice
- Matthew Arnold : Thyrsis A Monody
- Matthew Arnold : To A Friend
- Matthew Arnold : To A Republican Friend
- Matthew Arnold : To Marguerite
Previous 10 Poems
- Matthew Arnold : The Future
- Matthew Arnold : The Forsaken Merman
- Matthew Arnold : The Buried Life
- Matthew Arnold : Strayed Reveller, The
- Matthew Arnold : Stanzas From The Grande Chartreuse
- Matthew Arnold : Song Of Callicles, The
- Matthew Arnold : Sohrab And Rustum
- Matthew Arnold : Shakespeare
- Matthew Arnold : Self-dependence
- Matthew Arnold : Scholar-gipsy, The