Stones from The Quarry | ||
239
SILENCE.
O breathless Silence! timid as the hareThat hears the bay of hounds, and perdu lies
In grassy “form,” all quivering ears, strained eyes;
Whom e'en the motion of a cloud in air,
Shadow on earth, with sound suggested scare:
'Twixt name and echo thy brief being dies
(O Fearful-Innocent! so Guilt, called, flies!)
Thou hast no voice to pray, no ear for prayer!
Yet, if speech be to thy disparagement,
How, save by silence, pay thee thy just due!
By true Love's silence, which gives sweet'st consent?
The heart's “full stop,” Death near, so silent too?
The Poet's silent, breathless ravishment?
Or, gazing up to Heaven, feel God in you?
Stones from The Quarry | ||