DOVER BEACH
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he sea is calm to-night.The tide is full, the moon lies fairUpon the straits;--on the French coast the lightGleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. 5Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!Only, from the long line of sprayWhere the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,Listen! you hear the grating roarOf pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, 10At their return, up the high strand,Begin, and cease, and then again begin,With tremulous cadence slow, and bringThe eternal note of sadness in. Sophocles° long ago °15Heard it on the Ægæan,° and it brought °16Into his mind the turbid ebb and flowOf human misery; weFind also in the sound a thought,Hearing it by this distant northern sea. 20 The Sea of FaithWas once, too, at the full, and round earth's shoreLay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.But now I only hearIts melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, 25Retreating, to the breathOf the night-wind, down the vast edges drearAnd naked shingles of the world.Ah, love, let us be trueTo one another! for the world, which seems 30To lie before us like a land of dreams,So various, so beautiful, so new,Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;And we are here as on a darkling plain 35Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night. PHILOMELA° Hark! ah, the nightingale--The tawny-throated!Hark, from that moonlit cedar what a burst!What triumph! hark!--what pain°! °4 O wanderer from a Grecian shore,° °5Still, after many years, in distant lands,Still nourishing in thy bewilder'd brainThat wild, unquench'd, deep-sunken, old-world pain°-- °8Say, will it never heal?And can this fragrant lawn 10With its cool trees, and night,And the sweet, tranquil Thames,And moonshine, and the dew,To thy rack'd heart and brainAfford no balm? 15 Dost thou to-night behold,Here, through the moonlight on this English grass,The unfriendly palace in the Thracian wild°? °18Dost thou again peruseWith hot cheeks and sear'd eyes 20The too clear web, and thy dumb sister's shame°? °21Dost thou once more assayThy flight, and feel come over thee,Poor fugitive, the feathery changeOnce more, and once more seem to make resound 25With love and hate, triumph and agony,Lone Daulis,° and the high Cephissian vale°? °27Listen, Eugenia--How thick the bursts come crowding through the leaves°! °29Again--thou hearest? 30Eternal passion!Eternal pain°! °32
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