| sadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsad |  back to main calendar |
| sadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsad | back to main calendar |
 |
| The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straights-- 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. --from Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold (1853)
|