Dover Beach
Matthew Arnold
1822 to 1888
Track 1
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Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
The eternal note of sadness in.
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
At their return, up the high strand,
Retreating, to the breath
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
And we are here as on a darkling plain
But now I only hear
The sea is calm tonight.
Sophocles long ago
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
Ah, love, let us be true
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Of human misery; we
To one another! for the world, which seems
Listen! you hear the grating roar
And naked shingles of the world.
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
The Sea of Faith
Find also in the sound a thought,
Only, from the long line of spray
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
Where ignorant armies clash by night.