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DOVER Beach light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for


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.

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