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Thine was the sway ere heaven was form'd or earth;
Ere fruitful thought conceiv'd creation's birth.

The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was low,
Till wrangling science taught it noise and show,
And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foe.

There is a silence which hath been no sound;
'There is a silence which no sound may be —
In the cold grave.

She feels her inmost soul within her stir

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THOMAS HOOD.

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With thoughts too wild and passionate to speak;
Yet her full heart-its own interpreter-
Translates itself in silence on her cheek.

MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

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