English Poetry III: From Tennyson to Whitman.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 693. Say Not the Struggle Naught Availeth |
| | | Arthur Hugh Clough (1819–1861) |
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| SAY not the struggle naught availeth, | |
| The labour and the wounds are vain, | |
| The enemy faints not, nor faileth, | |
| And as things have been they remain. | |
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| If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; | 5 |
| It may be, in yon smoke conceal’d, | |
| Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers, | |
| And, but for you, possess the field. | |
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| For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, | |
| Seem here no painful inch to gain, | 10 |
| Far back, through creeks and inlets making, | |
| Comes silent, flooding in, the main. | |
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| And not by eastern windows only, | |
| When daylight comes, comes in the light; | |
| In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly! | 15 |
| But westward, look, the land is bright! | |
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