Poem by Henry Cuyler Bunner

Deaf

As to a bird’s song she were listening,
Her beautiful head is ever sidewise bent;
Her questioning eyes lift up their depths intent—
She, who will never hear the wild-birds sing.
My words within her ears’ cold chambers ring
Faint, with the city’s murmurous sub-tones blent,
Though with such sounds as suppliants may have sent
To high-throned goddesses, my speech takes wing.

Not for the side-poised head's appealing grace
I gaze, nor hair where fire in shadow lies—
For her this world's unhallowed noises base
Melt into silence; not our groans, our cries,
Our curses reach that high-removed place
Where dwells her spirit, innocently wise.

1. An Old-Fashioned Love Song
2. May-Bloom
3. Forfeits
4. Janiveer in March
5. Strong as Death

Emily Pfeiffer Deaf ("NEVER to hear the chorus that awakes")

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