Our noisy years seem moments in the beingOf the eternal Silence.
The mysteries that cups of flowers infoldAnd'all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
The unconquerable pang of despised love.
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor allThe dreary intercourse of daily life.
Surprised by joy---impatient as the wind.
Silence best speaks the mind.
Silence, beautiful voice.
What shall I say to you? What can I sayBetter than silence is?
And silence, like a poultice, comesTo heal the blows of sound.
It was so darn quiet you could hear your hair grow.
Some sipping punch, some sipping tea,But as you by their faces seeAll silent and all damned.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
There are grammatical errors even in his silence.
The deepest rivers make least din,The silent soule doth most abound in care.
Silence sleeping on a waste of ocean.
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