Monday, 30 July 2012
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Sunday, 1 July 2012
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.
from Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold