A CALAIS SANDS. THOUSAND knights have rein'd their steeds To watch this line of sand-hills run, Along the never-silent strait, To Calais glittering in the sun. To look toward Ardres' Golden Field Across this wide aërial plain, Which glows as if the Middle Age Oh, that to share this famous scene Thy lovely presence at my side, Thy shawl, thy look, thy smile, thy hand! How exquisite thy voice would come, How sweetly would the fresh sea-breeze Shake loose some lock of soft brown hair! But now my glance but once hath roved To England's cliffs my gaze is turn'd, Thou comest! Yes, the vessel's cloud I must not spring to grasp thy hand, And spell thy looks, and guess thy thoughts, To-morrow hurry through the fields DOVER BEACH. HE sea is calm to-night, THE 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, Where the ebb meets the moon-blanch'd sand, Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Egæan, and it brought 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 furl'd; But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating to the breath Of the night-wind down the vast edges drear 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, Swept with confused alarms of struggle and fight, THE BURIED LIFE. LIGHT flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless sadness o'er me roll. Give me thy hand, and hush awhile, And turn those limpid eyes on mine, And let me read there, love, thy inmost soul! Alas, is even love too weak To unlock the heart, and let it speak? Are even lovers powerless to reveal To one another what indeed they feel? I knew the mass of men conceal'd Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal'd They would by other men be met With blank indifference, or with blame reproved; |