The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Margaret Chandler/Deaf and Dumb

Deaf and Dumb
Her face was sweetly serious; yet a smile Was cradled in the dimple of her cheek, As if it waited but the frequent call, To spring to the red lip. I spoke to her, And listen'd for the music-breathing tones Of childhood's laughing voice—she answer'd not, Nor raised the fringes of her deep blue eyes;— And then they told me that the gushing fount Of all her young affections was seal'd up.— That young bright lip was voiceless; and the heart Sprang not in blessedness to the deep tones Of thrilling tenderness—the soul was shut— And all the spirit's wild imaginings Thrown back in darkness—like the flowers that spring Beneath the bosom of the winter's snow.