English Poetry III: From Tennyson to Whitman.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Matthew Arnold
700. To Marguerite
Y
With echoing straits between us thrown.
Dotting the shoreless watery wild,
We mortal millions live alone.
The islands feel the enclasping flow,
And then their endless bounds they know.
And they are swept by balms of spring,
And in their glens, on starry nights,
The nightingales divinely sing;
And lovely notes, from shore to shore,
Across the sounds and channels pour;
Is to their farthest caverns sent!
For surely once, they feel we were
Parts of a single continent.
Now round us spreads the watery plain—
O might our marges meet again!
Should be, as soon as kindled, cool’d?
Who renders vain their deep desire?—
A God, a God their severance ruled;
And bade betwixt their shores to be
The unplumb’d, salt, estranging sea.