Poet
Matthew Arnold
Buried Life, The
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,
Hayeswater
A region desolate and wild.
Mycerinus
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd,
Obermann Once More
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts
Sohrab and Rustum
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east,
Strayed Reveller, The
The Youth
The Buried Life
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,
The Scholar Gypsy
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill;
The Strayed Reveller
1 Faster, faster,
Thyrsis, a Monody
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills!
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