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Silence and Stealth of Days

 Silence, and stealth of days! 'tis now 
Since thou art gone, 
Twelve hundred hours, and not a brow 
But clouds hang on.
As he that in some cave's thick damp Lockt from the light, Fixeth a solitary lamp, To brave the night, And walking from his sun, when past That glim'ring ray Cuts through the heavy mists in haste Back to his day, So o'r fled minutes I retreat Unto that hour Which show'd thee last, but did defeat Thy light, and power, I search, and rack my soul to see Those beams again, But nothing but the snuff to me Appeareth plain; That dark and dead sleeps in its known And common urn, But those fled to their Maker's throne There shine and burn; O could I track them! but souls must Track one the other, And now the spirit, not the dust, Must be thy brother.
Yet I have one Pearl by whose light All things I see, And in the heart of earth and night Find heaven and thee.

Poem by Henry Vaughan
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Book: Shattered Sighs