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Silence

Thomas Hood
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, 
Or in wide desert where no life is found, 
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound; 
No voice is hush'd—no life treads silently, 
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free. 
That never spoke, over the idle ground: 
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls 
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been, 
Though the dun fox, or wild hyæna, calls, 
And owls, that flit continually between, 
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan,— 
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Thomas Hood

by this poet

poem
No!

        No sun—no moon!
        No morn—no noon—
No dawn—
        No sky—no earthly view—
        No distance looking blue—
No road—no street—no "t'other side the way"—
        No end to any Row—
        No indications where the Crescents go—
        No top to any steeple—

poem
With fingers weary and worn,
   With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
   Plying her needle and thread—
      Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
   And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."

   "Work! work! work!
While the cock is crowing