Dover Beach

By Emily Dickinson

"Nature" is what we see—

The Hill—the Afternoon—

Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee—

Nay—Nature is Heaven—

Nature is what we hear—

The Bobolink—the Sea—

Thunder—the Cricket—

Nay—Nature is Harmony—

Nature is what we know—

Yet have no art to say—

So impotent Our Wisdom is

To her Simplicity. 

A Moment Of Happiness

Rumi

A moment of happiness,

you and I sitting on the verandah,

apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.

We feel the flowing water of life here,

you and I, with the garden's beauty

and the birds singing.

The stars will be watching us,

and we will show them

what it is to be a thin crescent moon.

You and I unselfed, will be together,

indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.

The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar

as we laugh together, you and I.

In one form upon this earth,

and in another form in a timeless sweet land. 

Rain 

by Edward Thomas

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain 

On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me 

Remembering again that I shall die 

And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks 

For washing me cleaner than I have been 

Since I was born into this solitude. 

Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: 

But here I pray that none whom once I loved 

Is dying to-night or lying still awake 

Solitary, listening to the rain, 

Either in pain or thus in sympathy 

Helpless among the living and the dead, 

Like a cold water among broken reeds, 

Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff, 

Like me who have no love which this wild rain 

Has not dissolved except the love of death, 

If love it be towards what is perfect and 

Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint. 

Dover Beach 

by Matthew Arnold

The sea is calm to-night.

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-blanch'd 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 {AE}gean, 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 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

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.

Clouds And Waves 

by Rabindranath Tagore

Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-

"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.

We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon."

I ask, "But how am I to get up to you ?"

They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your

hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds."

"My mother is waiting for me at home, "I say, "How can I leave

her and come?"

Then they smile and float away.

But I know a nicer game than that, mother.

I shall be the cloud and you the moon.

I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will

be the blue sky.

The folk who live in the waves call out to me-

"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know

not where we pass."

I ask, "But how am I to join you?"

They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with

your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves."

I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the everything-

how can I leave her and go?"

They smile, dance and pass by.

But I know a better game than that.

I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.

I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with

laughter.

And no one in the world will know where we both are.