There is a silence where hath been no sound There is a silence where no sound may be In the cold grave, under the deep deep sea
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No sun - no moon! No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member -
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!
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But evil is wrought by want of thought as well as want of heart!
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We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
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Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
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But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?
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