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