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To the Beloved Oh, not more subtly silence strays Amongst the winds, between the voices, Mingling alike with pensive lays, And with the music that rejoices, Than thou art present in my days. My silence, life returns to thee In all the pauses of her breath. Hush back to rest the melody That out of thee awakeneth; And thou, wake ever, wake for me! Thou art like silence all unvexed, Though wild words part my soul from thee. Thou art like silence unperplexed, A secret and a mystery Between one footfall and the next. Most dear pause in a mellow lay! Thou art inwoven with every air. With thee the wildest tempests play, And snatches of thee everywhere Make little heavens throughout a day. Darkness and solitude shine, for me. For life's fair outward part are rife The silver noises; let them be. It is the very soul of life Listens for thee, listens for thee. O pause between the sobs of cares; O thought within all thought that is; Trance between laughters unawares: Thou art the shape of melodies, And thou the ecstasy of prayers! Alice Meynell's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1217 |
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