'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here, <br /> And ease from shame, and rest from fear. <br /> There's nothing can dismarble now <br /> The smoothness of that limpid brow. <br /> But is a calm like this, in truth, <br /> The crowning end of life and youth, <br /> And when this boon rewards the dead, <br /> Are all debts paid, has all been said? <br /> And is the heart of youth so light, <br /> Its step so firm, its eye so bright, <br /> Because on its hot brow there blows <br /> A wind of promise and repose <br /> From the far grave, to which it goes; <br /> Because it hath the hope to come, <br /> One day, to harbour in the tomb? <br /> Ah no, the bliss youth dreams is one <br /> For daylight, for the cheerful sun, <br /> For feeling nerves and living breath-- <br /> Youth dreams a bliss on this side death. <br /> It dreams a rest, if not more deep, <br /> More grateful than this marble sleep; <br /> It hears a voice within it tell: <br /> Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well. <br /> 'Tis all perhaps which man acquires, <br /> But 'tis not what our youth desires.<br /><br />Matthew Arnold<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/youth-and-calm/
