Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The Inner Silence
By Harriet Monroe
N
Earth’s mantle soft of air
And break upon the stillness where it dwells:
The noise of battle and the noise of prayer,
The cooing noise of love that softly tells
Joy’s brevity, the brazen noise of laughter—
All these affront me not, nor echo after
Through the long memories.
They may not enter the deep chamber where
Forever silence is.
Beneath her budding flowers;
Silence more rich than ever was the sound
Of harps through long warm hours.
It’s like a hidden vastness, even as though
Great suns might there beat out their measures slow,
Nor break the hush mightier than they.
There do I dwell eternally,
There where no thought may follow me,
Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the way.