The beautiful cliffs of Dover traditionally made people think of the
majesty of God.
By Arnold's time, the Diests and Darwinists had done their work.
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
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.