Page:Poems of nature, Thoreau, 1895.djvu/52

28 No speech, though kind, has it;

But kinder silence doles

Unto its mates;

By night consoles,

By day congratulates.

What saith the tongue to tongue?

What heareth ear of ear?

By the decrees of fate

From year to year,

Does it communicate.

Pathless the gulf of feeling yawns;

No trivial bridge of words,

Or arch of boldest span,

Can leap the moat that girds

The sincere man.