The world's poor, routed leavings? or will they,

Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,

Who failed under the heat of this life's Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil day,

Support the fervors of the heavenly morn?
No, no! the energy of life may be

Kept on after the grave, but not begun; 10
And he who flagged not in the earthly
strife,

bay.

5

Come to the window, sweet is the night-
air!

Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched
land,

From strength to strength advancing Listen! you hear the grating roar
only he,

His soul well-knit, and all his battles

Of pebbles which the waves draw 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.

Have yet so much as heard this simpler Ah, love, let us be true lore?

This no Saint preaches, and this no Church rules;

'Tis in the desert, now and heretofore.

DOVER BEACH

(1867)

The sea is calm tonight,

The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; -on the French coast
the light

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.

Round Troy - but while this stood, Troy Spare me the whispering, crowded room,

The lights come out in the street,
In the school-room windows; — but cold,

Which one who feels death's winnowing Solemn, unlighted, austere,