How dear to hearts by hurtful noises scarred
In the stillness of the many-leavèd trees,
The quiet of green hills, the million-starred
Tranquillity of night, the endless seas
Of silence in deep wilds, where nature broods
In large, serene, uninterrupted moods.
Oh, but to work as orchards work–bring forth
Pink bloom, green bud, red fruit and yellow leaf,
As noiselessly as gold proclaims its worth,
Or as the pale blade turns to russet sheaf,
Or splendid sun goes down the glowing west,
Still as forgotten memories in the breast.
How without panting effort, painful word,
Comes the enchanting miracle of snow,
Making a sleeping ocean. None have heard
Its waves, its surf, its foam, its overflow;
For unto every heart, all hot and wild,
It seems to say, 'Oh, hush thee! hush, my child!'
Ethelwyn Wetherald's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Earth's Silences by Ethelwyn Wetherald )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- A Kind Exit, Mae AC.
- Yesterday, ramesh rai
- Shooting Stars, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- In bed, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- From Destiny's Palm, Savita Tyagi
- Your silence, ramesh rai
- My body is my enemy, gajanan mishra
- No Tears For Me, vince gullaci
- season of fall autumn, binod bastola
- Coming to you I said, gajanan mishra