by John Stores Smith.
Originally published in The Leader (Joseph Clatton, junr.) vol.1 #23 (31 Aug 1850).
Great is the might of Speech, O Lady dear!
And when the wise man speaketh words of truth,
Strong as the genial forces of brave youth,
On every hand they hew a pathway clear,
Making the false to die—the unperceived appear.
But there be voices, sweet one, holier far
Than all the fiats Spoken-Truth hath uttered;
Roll on in silence, sun and moon and star,
Nor praises ere have sung, nor warnings muttered:
And yet, I tell thee that a royal hymn
Doth swell for ever from them as they roll;
To heaven's own melody each planet-car
Is driven unresting on its groaning pole;
High chaunts of luminance divine to him
Who bareth to their influence his soul.
So, when my love would make itself a voice,
To tell thee all I feel and all I know,—
To speak the passionate throbbings of my heart,
To tell mine ecstasies when I rejoice
In thy dear eyes' serenely tranquil glow;
In bitter cadences of song to impart
The utter desolation of my woe,
When I am languishing away from thee,
Plodding, in faith and hope, the appointed round;
Starlike, I find, silence my voice must be,
That I must love and trust and worship thee
In the rapt power of Love's idolatry,
Yet shape it not to speech, nor breathe it forth in sound.
Then, dearest, when, in silence by thy side,
I sit and speak not—bathing in the gold
Of heavenly aureoles around thee rolled—
Learn thou to read that Silence, Spirit-Bride!
To read the meaning of the deep untold,
Wherein thyself art hymned and glorified.
So shalt thou hear, although these lips be dumb,
Triumphant anthems to thy cherished name:
A prelude to a mightier song to come,
When earth-bonds break 'fore Love's impulsive tide,
And acted harmonies awake at his inspiring flame!