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The sea is calm tonight.The sea is calm tonight
The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long line of spray Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land, Listen! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, 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.
Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Find also in the sound a thought, Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems 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 Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.
The sea is peaceful tonight. The tide is high, the moon is bright On the narrow sea passage; on the French coast the light Shines and disappears; the cliffs of England stand, Shimmering and large, out in the calm bay. Come to the window, the night air is sweet! Only, from the long line of spray Where the sea meets the moonlit land, Listen! you hear the harsh sound Of pebbles which the waves pull back, and throw, As they return, up the high shore, Start, stop, and then start again, With a trembling slow rhythm, and bring The eternal sound of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought To his mind the troubled rise and fall Of human suffering; we Also find in the sound a thought, Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith Was once, too, full, and around earth’s shore Lay like the folds of a bright belt wrapped. But now I only hear Its sad, long, fading sound, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast dreary edges And bare pebbles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So varied, so beautiful, so new, Has really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certainty, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a dark plain Swept with confused warnings of struggle and flight, Where unaware armies clash by night.