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Matthew Arnold - Desire
Work rating: Low

  Thou, who dost dwell alone;
  Thou, who dost know thine own;
  Thou, to whom all are known,
  From the cradle to the grave,--
    Save, O, save!

  From the world`s temptations;
  From tribulations;
  From that fierce anguish
  Wherein we languish;
  From that torpor deep
  Wherein we lie asleep,
  Heavy as death, cold as the grave,--
    Save, O, save!

  When the soul, growing clearer,
  Sees God no nearer;
  When the soul, mounting higher,
  To God comes no nigher;
  But the arch-fiend Pride
  Mounts at her side,
  Foiling her high emprize,
  Sealing her eagle eyes,
  And, when she fain would soar,
  Make idols to adore;
  Changing the pure emotion
  Of her high devotion,
  To a skin-deep sense
  Of her own eloquence;
  Strong to deceive, strong to enslave,--
    Save, O, save!

  From the ingrained fashion
  Of this earthly nature
  That mars thy creature;
  From grief, that is but passion;
  From mirth, that is but feigning;
  From tears, that bring no healing;
  From wild and weak complaining;--
  Thine old strength revealing,
    Save, O, save!

  From doubt, where all is doable,
  Where wise men are not strong;
  Where comfort turns to trouble;
  Where just men suffer wrong;
  Where sorrow treads on joy;
  Where sweet things soonest cloy;
  Where faiths are built on dust;
  Where love is half mistrust,
  Hungry, and barren, and sharp as the sea;
    O, set us free!

  O, let the false dream fly
  Where our sick souls do lie,
  Tossing continually.
  O, where thy voice doth come,
  Let all doubts be dumb;
  Let all words be mild;
  All strife be reconciled;
  All pains beguiled.
  Light brings no blindness;
  Love no unkindness;
  Knowledge no ruin;
  Fear no undoing,
  From the cradle to the grave,--
    Save, O, save!
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