Silence
Ay, and thee, too, who wield'st a power divine,
Greater than loudest speech or fairest lay!
The dead, millions on millions, own thy sway
In realms where suns to rise no more, decline.
Thine is the lover's sweetest rapture, thine
the deepest cup of grief or joy that aye
The lips of mortal tasted, thine— yet stay!
How may I name thee, with what sound so fine
It shall not snap thy life's frail, golden thread?
O Solitude and Silence, bid me learn
A little of your greatness! Long are fled
The lesser gods of life, now let me turn
To ye alone, to ye in worship come,
The accents of this faltering tongue grown dumb!
Ay, and thee, too, who wield'st a power divine,
Greater than loudest speech or fairest lay!
The dead, millions on millions, own thy sway
In realms where suns to rise no more, decline.
Thine is the lover's sweetest rapture, thine
the deepest cup of grief or joy that aye
The lips of mortal tasted, thine— yet stay!
How may I name thee, with what sound so fine
It shall not snap thy life's frail, golden thread?
O Solitude and Silence, bid me learn
A little of your greatness! Long are fled
The lesser gods of life, now let me turn
To ye alone, to ye in worship come,
The accents of this faltering tongue grown dumb!