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By the heart's beat alone. Oh, silence is Love's own peculiar eloquence of bliss!— Music swept past:—it was a simple tone; But it has wakened heartfelt sympathies;— It has brought into life things past and gone; Has wakened all those secret memories, That may be smothered, but that still will be Present within thy soul, young ! The notes had roused an answering chord within:— In other days, that song her vesper hymn had been. Her altered look is pale:—that dewy eye Almost belies the smile her rich lips wear;— That smile is mocked by a scarce breathing sigh, Which tells of silent and suppressed care— Tells that the life is withering with despair, More irksome from its unsunned silentness— A festering wound the spirit pines to bear;