The Voice
Matthew Arnold
1822 to 1888
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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Shall in vain be sped
On the lifeless margin of the sparkling ocean;
So anxiously and painfully,
On the wild whirling waves, mournfully, mournfully,
Like wanderers from the world's extremity,
Those lute-like tones which in the bygone year
Yet could not break it.
Fall on the throbbing brow, fall on the burning breast,
Which the bright moon lances
So drearily and doubtfully,
Lies frozen and dead—
O unforgotten voice, thy accents come,
At the sleepless waters
Those melancholy tones so sweet and still;
Bringing no rest;
Did steal into mine ear;
Of a lonely mere,
In vain, all, all in vain,
From her tranquil sphere
When the flower they flow for
Blew such a thrilling summons to my will,
Mothers have shed—
Unto their ancient home!
Strains of glad music at a funeral,—
Queen-like and clear,
A gush of sunbeams through a ruined hall;
As the tears of sorrow
Of thought, such contrast strange,
Yet could not shake it;
Like bright waves that fall
Made my tost heart its very life-blood spill,
To this deep-sobered heart,
As the kindling glances,
Shiver and die;
Prayers that to-morrow
They beat upon mine ear again,—
And, oh! with such intolerable change
With a lifelike motion
So sad, and with so wild a start
A wild rose climbing up a mouldering wall;