A MIGHTY and a mingled throng Were gathered in one spot; The dwellers of a thousand homes -- Yet midst them voice was not. The soldier and his chief were there -- The mother and her child: The friends, the sisters of one hearth -- None spoke -- none moved -- none smiled. There lovers met, between whose lives Years had swept darkly by; After that heart-sick hope deferred, They met -- but silently. You might have heard the rustling leaf, The breeze's faintest sound, The shiver of an insect's wing, On that thick-peopled ground. Your voice to whispers would have died For the deep quiet's sake; Your tread the softest moss have sought, Such stillness not to break. What held the countless multitude Bound in that spell of peace? How could the ever-sounding life Amid so many cease? Was it some pageant of the air -- Some glory high above, That linked and hushed those human souls In reverential love? Or did some burdening passion's weight Hang on their indrawn breath? Awe -- the pale awe that freezes words? Fear -- the strong fear of death? A mightier thing -- Death, Death himself Lay on each lonely heart! Kindred were there -- yet hermits all, Thousands -- but each apart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIGH PLAINS RAG by JAMES GALVIN OFFERING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GLOIRE DE DIJON by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE HYMNARY: 324. WHITSUNTIDE by ADAM OF SAINT VICTOR IF I GROW OLD by ETHEL BERRY ALLEN THE SOLITUDE OF SPACE by FLORA CECILE ALLISON THE ABANDONED by MATHILDE BLIND PRODIGAL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN EPIGRAM ON MISS DAVIES; LINES WRITTEN ON A WINDOW AT MOFFAT INN by ROBERT BURNS |