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A poem by Matthew Arnold

Worldly Place [Sonnet]

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Title:     Worldly Place [Sonnet]
Author: Matthew Arnold [More Titles by Arnold]

_Even in a palace, life may be led well!_
So spake the imperial sage, purest of men,
Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den
Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell,

Our freedom for a little bread we sell,
And drudge under some foolish master's ken
Who rates us if we peer outside our pen--
Match'd with a palace, is not this a hell?

_Even in a palace!_ On his truth sincere,
Who spoke these words, no shadow ever came;
And when my ill-school'd spirit is aflame

Some nobler, ampler stage of life to win,
I'll stop, and say: "There were no succour here!
The aids to noble life are all within."


[The end]
Matthew Arnold's poem: Worldly Place [sonnet]

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