{
 "id": "matthew-arnold/to-george-cruikshank-esq",
 "title": "To George Cruikshank, Esq.",
 "ordinal": null,
 "subtitle": "On Seeing for the First Time His Picture of The Bottle, in the Country",
 "poet": "Matthew Arnold",
 "poet_slug": "matthew-arnold",
 "language": "en",
 "book": "The Strayed Reveller, and Other Poems",
 "book_slug": "the-strayed-reveller",
 "book_kind": "volume",
 "sequence": null,
 "container": null,
 "epigraph": null,
 "first_published": {
  "year": 1849,
  "venue": "The Strayed Reveller, and Other Poems (1849)",
  "note": "First located printing is this volume; an earlier periodical printing has not been established.",
  "uncertain": false,
  "sources": [
   "https://archive.org/details/strayedrevellero00arno"
  ]
 },
 "source": {
  "kind": "standard-ebooks",
  "repo": "standardebooks/matthew-arnold_poetry",
  "file": "poetry.xhtml",
  "upstream": [
   "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27739",
   "https://archive.org/details/poemsofmatthewar00arnouoft",
   "https://archive.org/details/poeticalworksofm00arn",
   "https://archive.org/details/inmemoriamawrea00marsgoog"
  ],
  "rights": "public domain (SE dedication; underlying text pre-1931)"
 },
 "verification": {
  "level": "structural-only",
  "last_checked": "2026-08-12"
 },
 "stats": {
  "n_lines": 14,
  "n_stanzas": 1,
  "n_parts": 0,
  "longest_line_chars": 54,
  "max_indent": 0
 },
 "site_ready": true,
 "parts": [],
 "stanzas": [
  [
   {
    "text": "Artist, whose hand, with horror wing’d, hath torn",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "From the rank life of towns this leaf: and flung",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "The prodigy of full-blown crime among",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Valleys and men to middle fortune born,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Not innocent, indeed, yet not forlorn:",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Say, what shall calm us, when such guests intrude,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Like comets on the heavenly solitude?",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Shall breathless glades, cheer’d by shy Dian’s horn,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Cold-bubbling springs, or caves? Not so! The Soul",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Breasts her own griefs: and, urg’d too fiercely, says:",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "“Why tremble? True, the nobleness of man",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "May be by man effac’d: man can control",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "To pain, to death, the bent of his own days.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Know thou the worst! So much, not more, he can.”",
    "indent": 0
   }
  ]
 ]
}