(1 January 1819 – 13 November 1861 / Liverpool)

In A Lecture Room

Away, haunt thou me not,
Thou vain Philosophy!
Little hast thou bestead,
Save to perplex the head,
And leave the spirit dead.
Unto thy broken cisterns wherefore go,
While from the secret treasure-depths below,
Fed by the skyey shower,
And clouds that sink and rest on hilltops high,
Wisdom at once, and Power,
Are welling, bubbling forth, unseen, incessantly?
Why labor at the dull mechanic oar,
When the fresh breeze is blowing,
And the strong current flowing,
Right onward to the Eternal Shore?

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Comments (5)

Such a nice write here... so enjoyable in reading
the strong current flowing, Right onward to the Eternal Shore
Clouds that sink! ! With the muse of life. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Such a great write by Arthur Hugh Clough..........................
All These things we see are passing away, vanity of philosophies, vanity of wisdoms, vanity of vanities, we are all passing away with it.