Yes! in the sea of life enisled, <br />With echoing straits between us thrown, <br />Dotting the shoreless watery wild, <br />We mortal millions live alone. <br />The islands feel the enclasping flow, <br />And then their endless bounds they know. <br /> <br />But when the moon their hollows lights, <br />And they are swept by balms of spring, <br />And in their glens, on starry nights, <br />The nightingales divinely sing; <br />And lovely notes, from shore to shore, <br />Across the sounds and channels pour-- <br /> <br />Oh! then a longing like despair <br />Is to their farthest caverns sent; <br />For surely once, they feel, we were <br />Parts of a single continent! <br />Now round us spreads the watery plain-- <br />Oh might our marges meet again! <br /> <br />Who order'd, that their longing's fire <br />Should be, as soon as kindled, cool'd? <br />Who renters vain their deep desire?-- <br />A God, a God their severance ruled! <br />And bade betwixt their shores to be <br />The unplumb'd, salt, estranging sea.<br /><br />Matthew Arnold<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-marguerite-continued/
