Matthew Arnold - Fragment of an "Antigone" lyrics

  The Chorus Well hath he done who hath seized happiness! For little do the all-containing hours, Though opulent, freely give. Who, weighing that life well Fortune presents unpray'd, Declines her ministry, and carves his own; And, justice not infringed, Makes his own welfare his unswerved-from law. He does well too, who keeps that clue the mild Birth-Goddess and the austere Fates first gave. For from the day when these Bring him, a weeping child, First to the light, and mark A country for him, kinsfolk, and a home, Unguided he remains, Till the Fates come again, this time with d**h.   In little companies, And, our own place once left, Ignorant where to stand, or whom to avoid, By city and household group'd, we live; and many shocks Our order heaven-ordain'd Must every day endure: Voyages, exiles, hates, dissensions, wars.  Besides what waste he makes,  The all-hated, order-breaking,  Without friend, city, or home,  d**h, who dissevers all.  Him then I praise, who dares  To self-selected good Prefer obedience to the primal law, Which consecrates the ties of blood; for these, indeed,  Are to the Gods a care;  That touches but himself. For every day man may be link'd and loosed  With strangers; but the bond  Original, deep-inwound,  Of blood, can he not bind,  Nor, if Fate binds, not bear.  But hush! HæmonHæmon But like me, she, wroth, complaining, Succumb'd to the envy of unkind Gods; And, her beautiful arms unclasping, Her fair youth unwillingly gave.   The Chorus Nor, though enthroned too high To fear a**ault of envious Gods, His beloved Argive seer would Zeus retain From his appointed end In this our Thebes; but when His flying steeds came near To cross the steep Ismenian glen, The broad earth open'd, and whelm'd them and him; And through the void air sang At large his enemy's spear. And fain would Zeus have saved his tired son Beholding him where the Two Pillars stand O'er the sun-redden'd western straits, Or at his work in that dim lower world. Fain would he have recall'd The fraudulent oath which bound To a much feebler wight the heroic man. But he preferr'd Fate to his strong desire. Nor did there need less than the burning pile Under the towering Trachis crags, And the Spercheios vale, shaken with groans, And the roused Maliac gulph, And scared Œtæan snows, To achieve his son's deliverance, O my child!