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Poem by Louise Chandler Moulton


Silent Sorrow


If she unclosed her lips and made her moan
She would not be so weary with her woe--
A burden shared is lightened: even so
The weight is heavier that we bear alone,
And anguish, pent within, turns hearts to stone.
The fellowship of sorrow to forego--
To suffer and be silent--is to know
The blackest blossom from the black root grown.

And yet great joys and greatest woes are dumb:
Small is the sum that reckoning can compute--
The shallows babble, but the depths are mute--
The great mid-sea our measure may not plumb:
King Love, King Pain, King Death, in silence come;
And, meeting them, we silently salute.



Louise Chandler Moulton


Louise Chandler Moulton's other poems:
  1. Love's Empty House
  2. The Last Good-by
  3. A Summer's Growth
  4. Last Year. II
  5. My Birthday


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