A Woman's Reliquary [by Edward Dowden] |
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| III. | III SILENCE AND SPEECH |
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 | A Woman's Reliquary |  |
2
III
SILENCE AND SPEECH
Others, with desolate arms, have flung
Their hands to heaven, and cried their grief,
And found, because a woe was sung,
Sad measured fragments of relief.
Their hands to heaven, and cried their grief,
And found, because a woe was sung,
Sad measured fragments of relief.
If such my lot, these lips were dumb;
Song were a broken, idle toy;
Lean to me, my beloved; come,
And hear what may be told of joy.
Song were a broken, idle toy;
Lean to me, my beloved; come,
And hear what may be told of joy.
| A Woman's Reliquary | |