| Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922. | | | | Dover Beach | | By Matthew Arnold (18221888) |
| | | 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. | 5 |
| Come to the window, sweet is the night air! | |
| Only, from the long line of spray | |
| Where the ebb meets the moon-blanchd sand, | |
| Listen! you hear the grating roar | |
| Of pebbles which the waves suck back, and fling, | 10 |
| 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 | 15 |
| Heard it on the Aegaean, 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. | 20 |
| |
| The sea of faith | |
| Was once, too, at the full, and round earths shore | |
| Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furld; | |
| But now I only hear | |
| Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, | 25 |
| 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 | 30 |
| 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 | 35 |
| Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, | |
| Where ignorant armies clash by night. | | | | |
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