Silence, beautiful voice.

I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.

Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life!

What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.

I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.

I am a part of all that I have met.