Noises that strive to tear <br />Earth's mantle soft of air <br />And break upon the stillness where it dwells: <br />The noise of battle and the noise of prayer, <br />The cooing noise of love that softly tells <br />Joy's brevity, the brazen noise of laughter— <br />All these affront me not, nor echo after <br />Through the long memories. <br />They may not enter the deep chamber where <br />Forever silence is. <br /> <br />Silence more soft than spring hides in the ground <br />Beneath her budding flowers; <br />Silence more rich than ever was the sound <br />Of harps through long warm hours, <br />'Tis like a hidden vastness, even as though <br />Great suns might there beat out their measures slow <br />Nor break the hush mightier than they. <br />There do I dwell eternally, <br />There where no thought may follow me, <br />Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the way.<br /><br />Harriet Monroe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-inner-silence/
