Noises that strive to
Earth's mantle soft of air And break upon the stillness where it dwells:
The noise of battle and the noise of prayer,
The cooing noise of love that softly tells Joy's brevity, the brazen noise of laughter— All these affront me not, nor echo
Through the long memories.
They may not enter the deep chamber
Forever silence is.
Silence more soft than spring hides in the
Beneath her budding flowers;
Silence more rich than ever was the sound Of harps through long warm hours, 'Tis like a hidden vastness, even as though Great suns might there beat out their measures
Nor break the hush mightier than they.
There do I dwell eternally,
There where no thought may follow me,
Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the way.
