large/1281/dover_beach/dover_beach_arnold_sv_64kb_2
large/1281/dover_beach/dover_beach_arnold_sv_64kb
English
1281
Ah, love, let us be trueTo one another! for the world, which seemsTo 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 plainSwept with confus'd alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night. AH LOVE LET US BE TRUE TO ONE ANOTHER FOR THE WORLD WHICH SEEMS TO 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 SWEPT WITH CONFUSED ALARMS OF STRUGGLE AND FLIGHT WHERE IGNORANT ARMIES CLASH BY NIGHT
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.Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!Only, from the long line of sprayWhere the sea meets the moon-blanch’d sand,Listen! you hear the grating roarOf pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,At 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 agoHeard it on the Ægæan, and it broughtInto his mind the turbid ebb and flowOf human misery; weFind also in the sound a thought,Hearing it by this distant northern sea.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,Retreating, to the breathOf the night-winds, down the vast edges drearAnd naked shingles of the world.  BEACH THE SEA IS CALM TO NIGHT THE TIDE IS FULL THE MOON LIES FAIR UPON THE STRAITS ON THE FRENCH COAST THE LIGHT GLEAMS AND IS GONE THE CLIFFS OF ENGLAND STAND GLIMMERING AND VAST OUT IN THE TRANQUIL BAY COME TO THE WINDOW SWEET AS THE NIGHT AIR ONLY FROM THE LONG LINE OF SPRAY WITH THE SEA NEEDS THE MOON BLANCHED SAND LISTEN YOU HEAR THE GRATING ROAR OF PEBBLES WHICH THE WAVES DRAW BACK IN FLING AT THEIR RETURN UP THE HIGH STRAND BEGIN AND CEASE AND THEN AGAIN BEGIN WITH TREMULENCE CADENCE SLOW AND BRING THE ETERNAL NOTE OF SADNESS IN SOPHOCLES LONG AGO HEARD IT ON THE AEGEAN AND IT BROUGHT INTO HIS MIND THE TURBID EBB AND FLOW OF HUMAN MISERY WE FIND ALSO IN THE SOUND OF THOUGHT HEARING IT BY THIS DISTANT NORTHERN SEA THE SEA OF FAITH WAS ONCE TOO AT THE FULL AND ROUND EARTH SHORE LAY LIKE THE FOLDS OF A BRIGHT GIRDLE FURLED BUT NOW WE ONLY HEAR ITS MELANCHOLY LONG WITHDRAWING ROAR RETREATING TO THE BREATH OF THE NIGHT WINDS DOWN THE VAST EDGES DREAR AND NAKED SHINGLES OF THE WORLD
large/1281/dover_beach/dover_beach_arnold_sv_64kb
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