Explore "Requiescat" by Matthew Arnold on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Strew on her roses, roses, / And never a spray of yew.
In quiet she reposes: / Ah! would that I did too.
Her mirth the world required: / She bath'd it in smiles of glee.
But her heart was tired, tired, / And now they let her be.
Her life was turning, turning, / In mazes of heat and sound.
But for peace her soul was yearning, / And now peace laps her round.
Her cabin'd, ample Spirit, / It flutter'd and fail'd for breath.
To-night it doth inherit / The vasty Hall of Death.