Rainbows (Custance)/The Silence of Love

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The Silence of Love

The poise of your small head, how proud it seems;How sad your great dark eyes; and your mouth's bowHas such a petulant disdainful pout,As though it wearied of the ebb and flowOf life within the soul where shapes of dreamsIn endless long processions come and go,And all the tumult of the world without.Slowly about us the grave dusk is shed,Behind us as we stand the frost-stung fireFlames up and fills the room with dancing light,Speech is not, but in silence I aspireTo praise you in a song unsung, unsaid,A dream song faint with sorrow and desireOf music made, and memory, and delight.
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