SEE now these hands that move to the old ways— Things without mind, they seek their constant desire... Likewise my voice, a thing apart, demands Final permission to speak again to you— To urge a little with more than silences, Through lips betraying by an accustomed curve Their old delight in what goes not unspoken. But have no fear, I shall not break this silence. There will be never a breath made audible Or shaped and tuned to a thought. There will be nothing out of all this stillness Save, in myself, the constant and costly toll Paid for silence against the strength of words That must come at last to naught... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SACHEM OF THE CLOUDS (A THANKSGIVING LEGEND) by ROBERT FROST SPRING BLIZZARD by JAMES GALVIN THE MAN TO BE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO HENRY LINCOLN JOHNSON - LAWYER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A FLORIDA SUNDAY by SIDNEY LANIER |