Well! thou art happy, and I feel 
That I should thus be happy too; 
For still my heart regards thy weal 
Warmly, as it was wont to do.

Thy husband's blest — and 't will impart 
Some pangs to view his happier lot:
But let them pass — Oh! how my heart 
Would hate him, if he loved thee not! 

When late I saw thy favorite child,
I thought my jealous heart would break;
But when the unconscious infant smiled, 
I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.

I kiss'd it, — and repressed my sighs
Its father in its face to see; 
But then it had its mother's eyes, 
And they were all to love and me. 

Mary, adieu! I must away:
While thou art blest I'll not repine; 
But near thee I can never stay;
My heart would soon again be thine. 

I deem'd that time, I deem'd that pride 
Had quench'd at length my boyish flame:
Nor knew, till seated by thy side,
My heart in all, — save hope, — the same. 

Yet was I calm: I knew the time
My breast would thrill before thy look; 
But now to tremble were a crime — 
We met, — and not a nerve was shook. 

I saw thee gaze upon my face, 
Yet met with no confusion there: 
One only feeling could'st thou trace; 
The sullen calmness of despair. 

Away! away! my early dream 
Remembrance never must awake;
Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream! 
My foolish heart be still, or break. 

Oh, not more subtly silence strays
Amongst the winds, between the voices,
Mingling alike with pensive lays,
And with the music that rejoices,
Than thou art present in my days.

My silence, life returns to thee
In all the pauses of her breath.
Hush back to rest the melody
That out of thee awakeneth;
And thou, wake ever, wake for me!

Thou art like silence all unvexed,
Though wild words part my soul from thee.
Thou art like silence unperplexed,
A secret and a mystery
Between one footfall and the next.

Most dear pause in a mellow lay!
Thou art inwoven with every air.
With thee the wildest tempests play,
And snatches of thee everywhere
Make little heavens throughout a day.

Darkness and solitude shine, for me.
For life's fair outward part are rife
The silver noises; let them be.
It is the very soul of life
Listens for thee, listens for thee.

O pause between the sobs of cares;
O thought within all thought that is;
Trance between laughters unawares:
Thou are the shape of melodies,
And thou the ecstasy of prayers!