Say not the Struggle Nought Availeth
Arthur Hugh Clough
1819 to 1861
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Say not, the struggle nought availeth,
The labour and wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
as things have been they remain.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, for you, possess the field.
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.