| Matthew Arnold (1822–88). The Poems of Matthew Arnold, 1840–1867. 1909. | | | | New Poems, 1867 | | Worldly Place |
| | [First published 1867.]
Even in a palace, life may be led well! | |
| So spoke the imperial sage, purest of men, | |
| Marcus Aurelius.—But the stifling den | |
| Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell. | |
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| Our freedom for a little bread we sell, | 5 |
| 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? | |
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| Even in a palace! On his truth sincere, | |
| Who spoke these words, no shadow ever came; | 10 |
| And when my ill-school’d spirit is aflame | |
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| 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.’ | | | | |
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