Читать книгу Preludes - Alice Christiana Gertrude Thompson Meynell - Страница 7

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For other versions of this work, see To the Beloved (Meynell).

A qui j'ai dit: "Toujours!" et qui m'a dit: "Partout!"

Victor Hugo.

Oh, not more subtly silence strays

Amongst the winds, between the voices,

Mingling alike with pensive lays,

And with the music that rejoices,

Than thou art present in my days.

My silence, life returns to thee

In all the pauses of her breath.

Hush back to rest the melody

That out of thee awakeneth;

And thou, wake ever, wake for me.

Full, full is life in hidden places,

For thou art silence unto me.

Full, full is thought in endless spaces.

Full is my life. A silent sea

Lies round all shores with long embraces.

Thou art like silence all unvexed

Though wild words part my soul from thee.

Thou art like silence unperplexed,

A secret and a mystery

Between one footfall and the next.

Most dear pause in a mellow lay!

Thou art inwoven with every air.

With thee the wildest tempests play,

And snatches of thee everywhere

Make little heavens throughout a day.

Darkness and solitude shine, for me.

For life's fair outward part are rife

The silver noises; let them be.

It is the very soul of life

Listens for thee, listens for thee.

O pause between the sobs of cares!

O thought within all thought that is;

Trance between laughters unawares!

Thou art the form of melodies,

And thou the ecstasy of prayers.