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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37707" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Rachel I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37707" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In Paris all look'd hot and like to fade.<br> Sere, in the garden of the Tuileries,<br> Sere with September, droop'd the chestnut-trees.<br> 'Twas dawn; a brougham roll'd through the streets and made</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37707" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> Halt at the white and silent colonnade<br> Of the French Theatre. Worn with disease,<br> Rachel, with eyes no gazing can appease,<br> Sate in the brougham and those blank walls survey'd.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37707" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> She follows the gay world, whose swarms have fled<br> To Switzerland, to Baden, to the Rhine;<br> Why stops she by this empty play-house drear?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37707" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> Ah, where the spirit its highest life hath led,<br> All spots, match'd with that spot, are less divine;<br> And Rachel's Switzerland, her Rhine, is here!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Matthew+Arnold">Matthew Arnold</a></strong> from <em><a href="http://sources.citatepedia.com/from.php?a=Matthew+Arnold&d=Sonnets">Sonnets</a></em></div>

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