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Thee at the ferry Oxford riders blithe,
Returning home on summer-nights, have met
Crossing the stripling Thames at Bab-lock-hithe,
Trailing in the cool stream thy fingers wet,
As the punt’s rope chops round.

— Matthew Arnold The Scholar-Gipsy (1853)

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More quotes by Matthew Arnold

Nature, with equal mind,
Sees all her sons at play
Sees man control the wind,
The wind sweep man away.

Empedocles on Etna (1852)

And that sweet city with her dreaming spires,
She needs not June for beauty’s heightening.

Thyrsis (1866)

Everything in our political life tends to hide from us that there is anything wiser than our ordinary selves.

Culture and Anarchy (1869)

Hither and thither spins
The wind-borne mirroring soul,
A thousand glimpses wins,
And never sees a whole.

Empedocles on Etna (1852)

Peace, peace is what I seek, and public calm,
Endless extinction of unhappy hates.

Merope (1858)

All Matthew Arnold quotes →

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Matthew Arnold (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.