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Rating: 2.9
We cannot kindle when we will
The fire which in the heart resides;
The spirit bloweth and is still,
In mystery our soul abides.
But tasks in hours of insight will'd
Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd.

With aching hands and bleeding feet
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day, and wish 'twere done.
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Matthew Arnold 05 September 2018
Can't find any critical analysis of this poem ffs
2 2 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 16 May 2018
Twas when the heavenly house I trod, And lay upon the breast of God.'...here i found the essence of the poem. Beautiful poem by Matthew Arnold.
0 4 Reply
Blahblahboy 16 May 2018
I dont care of this thing what the heck
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Susan Williams 16 May 2018
The verses about the life of workers, how hard they labor from dawn to dark to feed themselves and their families and how hard they work until they die... that is a powerful piece of writing. The hardness of that life doesn't leave time to follow other paths, to live life fully, Arnold is deeply concerned about the fate of the the human spirit which needs some kind of release or it too withers and dies....
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Edward Kofi Louis 16 May 2018
In Nature's eye! ! Thanks for sharing.
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Ramesh T A 16 May 2018
An insightful poem about the moral nature of a man in family lives by the embrace of home is nicely said in all its true aspects by the critical observation of poet critic, Mr. Mathew Arnold!
1 2 Reply
Such a great write by Matthew Arnold??????
1 3 Reply
The lack of comments speak volumes about this poem.
3 4 Reply
youre 25 March 2019
retarded bruh
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