Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke
Matthew Arnold (18221888)Palladium
S
Was the Palladium, high ’mid rock and wood;
And Hector was in Ilium, far below,
And fought, and saw it not—but there it stood!
On the pure columns of its glen-built hall.
Backward and forward roll’d the waves of fight
Round Troy—but while this stood, Troy could not fall.
Mountains surround it, and sweet virgin air;
Cold plashing, past it, crystal waters roll;
We visit it by moments, ah, too rare!
To-morrow;—red with blood will Xanthus be;
Hector and Ajax will be there again,
Helen will come upon the wall to see.
And fluctuate ’twixt blind hopes and blind despairs,
And fancy that we put forth all our life,
And never know how with the soul it fares.
Upon our life a ruling effluence send.
And when it fails, fight as we will, we die
And while it lasts, we cannot wholly end.