There is a silence where hath been no
sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave--under the deep deep
sea,
Or in the wide desert where no life is
found,
Which hath been mute, and still must
sleep profound;
No voice is hushed--no life treads
silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander
free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox, or wild hyena, calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds
moan,
There the true Silence is, self-conscious
and alone.
< British and American Poets
of the 19th Century >