silence - Popular Poems and stories from category

There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,

I catch the pattern Of your
Before you speakI do not
To hear a word
In your

Peace my hearts blab, be ever dumb,
Sorrowes speak loud without a tongue:
And my perplexed thoughts forbear To breath your selves in any ear:
Tis scarce a true or manly grief Which gaddes abroad to find relief

Here in the silence cometh unto me                A song that is not mine,
With wash of waves along the cold shore line,
And sob of wind, and rain upon the sea
It is the song and message of the dead

Too wearily had we and
Been left to look and left to long,
Yea, song and we to long and look,
Since thine acquainted feet

Silence, and stealth of days
'tis now             Since thou art gone,
Twelve hundred hours, and not a brow             But clouds hang on
As he that in some cave's thick damp             Lockt from the light,

As I ponder'd in silence,
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me, with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,

The silence of maternal
Is round me in my evening dreams ;
And round me music-making
And mingling waves of pastoral streams

My father used to say,"Superior people never make long visits,have to be shown Longfellow's gravenor the glass flowers at Harvard
Self reliant like the cat —that takes its prey to privacy,the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace fro...

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 ...

HE silence of maternal hills Is round me in my evening dreams;
And round me music-making rills And mingling waves of pastoral streams
Whatever way I turn I find The path is old unto me still
The hills of home are in my mind,

Да не о чем плакать, Бога-то не гневи
Не дохнешь — живи, не можешь — сиди язви
Та смотрит фэшн-тиви, этот носит серьгу в брови, —
У тебя два куба тишины в крови