1The sea is calm to-night. pain; The tide is full, the moon lies fair And we are here as on a darkling plain Upon the straits; on the French coast Swept with confused alarms of the light struggle and flight, Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of Where ignorant armies clash by night. England stand; Glimmering and vast, out in the DOVER Beach tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the 1The sea is calm to-night. night-air! The tide is full, the moon lies fair Only, from the long line of spray Upon the straits; on the French coast Where the sea meets the moon- the light blanched land, Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of Listen! You hear the grating roar England stand; Of pebbles which the waves drawback, Glimmering and vast, out in the and fling, tranquil bay. At their return, up the high strand, Come to the window, sweet is the Begin, and cease, and then again night-air! begin, Only, from the long line of spray With tremulous cadence slow, and Where the sea meets the moon- bring blanched land, The eternal note of sadness in. Listen! You hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves drawback, 2Sophocles long ago and fling, Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought At their return, up the high strand, Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Begin, and cease, and then again Of human misery; we begin, Find also in the sound a thought, With tremulous cadence slow, and Hearing it by this distant northern sea. bring The eternal note of sadness in. 3 The Sea of Faith was once, too, at the full, and round 2Sophocles long ago earth's shore Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought Lay like the folds of a bright girdle Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow furled. Of human misery; we But now I only hear Find also in the sound a thought, Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Hearing it by this distant northern sea. Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast 3 The Sea of Faith edges drear was once, too, at the full, and round And naked shingles of the world. earth's shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle 4Ah, love, let us be true furled. to one another! for the world, which But now I only hear seems Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, To lie before us like a land of dreams, Retreating, to the breath So various, so beautiful, so new, Of the night-wind, down the vast Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor edges drear And naked shingles of the world.
4 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.