Dover Beach

Byadmin

5月 22, 2020

–Matthew Arnold

The sea is calm tonight.

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 is the night-air!

Only, from the long line of spray

where the sea meets the moon-blanched land.

Listen! you hear the grating roar of 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 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 a thought,

Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith was once, too, at the full,

and round earth’s shore lay

like the folds of a bright girdle furled.

But now I only hear its melancholy,

long, withdrawing roar, retreating,

to the breath Of the night-wind,

down the vast edges drear

and naked shingles of the world.

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.

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