Matthew Arnold

(1822-1888 / Middlesex / England)

Too Late - Poem by Matthew Arnold

Each on his own strict line we move,
And some find death ere they find love;
So far apart their lives are thrown
From the twin soul which halves their own.

And sometimes, by harder fate,
The lovers meet, but meet too late.
- Thy heart is mine! - True, true! ah, true!
- Then, love, thy hand! - Ah no! adieu!

Topic(s) of this poem: longing

Comments about Too Late by Matthew Arnold

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Friday, July 24, 2015

[Report Error]