"Dover Beach"
By
Matthew Arnold
Transcription, correction, editorial commentary, and markup by Students and Staff at The University of Virginia, Tonya Howe
[TP]
NEW POEMS
BY
MATTHEW ARNOLD
LONDON
MACMILLAN AND CO.
M DCCC LXVII 112 DOVER BEACH. 1THE SEA is calm to-night, 2The tide is full, the moon lies fair 3Upon the Straits;--on the French coast, the light 4Gleams, and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, 5Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. 6Come to the window, sweet is the night air! 7Only, from the long line of spray 8Where the ebb meets the moon-blanched sand, 9Listen! you hear the grating roar 10Of pebbles which the waves suck back, and fling, 11At their return, up the high strand, 12Begin, and cease, and then again begin, 13With tremulous cadence slow, and bring 14The eternal note of sadness in. 113 15Sophocles long ago 16Heard it on the AEgean, and it brought 17Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow 18of human misery; we 19Find also in the sound a thought, 20Hearing it by this distant northern sea. 21The sea of faith 22Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore 23Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd; 24But now I only hear 25Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, 26Retreating to the breath 27Of the night-wind down the vast edges drear 28And naked shingles of the world. 29Ah, love, let us be true 30To one another! for the world, which seems 31To lie before us like a land of dreams, 32So various, so beautiful, so new, 114 33Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, 34Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; 35And we are here as on a darkling plain 36Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, 37Where ignorant armies clash by night.
BY
MATTHEW ARNOLD
LONDON
MACMILLAN AND CO.
M DCCC LXVII 112 DOVER BEACH. 1THE SEA is calm to-night, 2The tide is full, the moon lies fair 3Upon the Straits;--on the French coast, the light 4Gleams, and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, 5Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. 6Come to the window, sweet is the night air! 7Only, from the long line of spray 8Where the ebb meets the moon-blanched sand, 9Listen! you hear the grating roar 10Of pebbles which the waves suck back, and fling, 11At their return, up the high strand, 12Begin, and cease, and then again begin, 13With tremulous cadence slow, and bring 14The eternal note of sadness in. 113 15Sophocles long ago 16Heard it on the AEgean, and it brought 17Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow 18of human misery; we 19Find also in the sound a thought, 20Hearing it by this distant northern sea. 21The sea of faith 22Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore 23Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd; 24But now I only hear 25Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, 26Retreating to the breath 27Of the night-wind down the vast edges drear 28And naked shingles of the world. 29Ah, love, let us be true 30To one another! for the world, which seems 31To lie before us like a land of dreams, 32So various, so beautiful, so new, 114 33Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, 34Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; 35And we are here as on a darkling plain 36Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, 37Where ignorant armies clash by night.