A MIGHTY and a mingled throng Were gathered in one spot; The dwellers of a thousand homes -- Yet midst them voice was not. The soldier and his chief were there -- The mother and her child: The friends, the sisters of one hearth -- None spoke -- none moved -- none smiled. There lovers met, between whose lives Years had swept darkly by; After that heart-sick hope deferred, They met -- but silently. You might have heard the rustling leaf, The breeze's faintest sound, The shiver of an insect's wing, On that thick-peopled ground. Your voice to whispers would have died For the deep quiet's sake; Your tread the softest moss have sought, Such stillness not to break. What held the countless multitude Bound in that spell of peace? How could the ever-sounding life Amid so many cease? Was it some pageant of the air -- Some glory high above, That linked and hushed those human souls In reverential love? Or did some burdening passion's weight Hang on their indrawn breath? Awe -- the pale awe that freezes words? Fear -- the strong fear of death? A mightier thing -- Death, Death himself Lay on each lonely heart! Kindred were there -- yet hermits all, Thousands -- but each apart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER NATURE by EMILY DICKINSON BALLAD: THE THINGS OF NO ACCOUNT by FRANCOIS VILLON TASTE, AN EPISTLE TO A YOUNG CRITIC by JOHN ARMSTRONG FABLE: 16 by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE PROEM. TO LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE WILD GEESE by MICHAEL JOSEPH BARRY PSALM 102 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE INSUFFICIENCY (2) by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: ROOT AND LEAF by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |