Requiescat by Matthew Arnold

Strew on her roses, roses,
And never a spray of yew!
In quiet she reposes;
Ah, would that I did too!

Her mirth the world required;
She bathed it in smiles of glee.
But her heart was tired, tired,
And now they let her be.

Her life was turning, turning,
In mazes of heat and sound.
But for peace her soul was yearning,
And now peace laps her round.

Her cabined ample spirit,
It fluttered and failed for breath.
Tonight it doth inherit
The vasty hall of death.

by Matthew Arnold

Other poems by 'Matthew Arnold'

Shakespeare

Consolation

The Voice

Sohrab and Rustum

Memorial Verses

East London

The Future

Hayeswater

The Pagan World

Philomela