ON Calais Sands the gray began, <br /> Then rosy red above they gray; <br />The morn with many a scarlet van <br /> Leaped, and the world was glad with May! <br />The little waves along the bay <br /> Broke white upon the shelving strands; <br />The sea-mews flitted white as they <br /> On Calais Sands! <br /> <br />On Calais Sands must man with man <br /> Wash honor clean in blood to-day; <br />On spaces wet from waters wan <br /> How white the flashing rapiers play,— <br />Parry, riposte! and lunge! The fray <br /> Shifts for a while, then mournful stands <br />The Victor: life ebbs fast away <br /> On Calais Sands! <br /> <br />On Calais Sands a little space <br /> Of silence, then the plash and spray, <br />The sound of eager waves that ran <br /> To kiss the perfumed locks astray, <br />To touch these lips that ne’er said “Nay,” <br /> To dally with the helpless hands, <br />Till the deep sea in silence lay <br /> On Calais Sands! <br /> <br />Between the lilac and the may <br /> She waits her love from alien lands; <br />Her love is colder than the clay <br /> On Calais Sands!<br /><br />Andrew Lang<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-calais-sands/
