The Deaf and Dumb Child.

I.

No voice nor sound for me had power,
I walk'd as in a sunlit night,
The stillness of the midnight hour
Was round me all the noonday bright.

I saw the dark blue streamlet glide
The wild wind bow'd the forest trees,
I heard no murmur in the tide,
No music in the rushing breeze.

I saw bright eyes on bright eyes bent,
The speaking glance I knew full well,
But the lips moved—and what they sent
To other lips I could not tell.

And, like to water cold and lone
Hid down in some deep sunless cave,
The current of my thoughts flow'd on;
No light was on the gloomy wave.

I walk'd the dew-bespangled sod,
I look'd into the broad blue sky,
I wist not of the good great God,
I never dream'd of things on high.

II.

My soul is not untutor'd now,
Even words and tongues for me have might,
My thought has learn'd a calmer flow,
And the dark waters leap in light;

They tell me hill, and stream, and tree,
Can breathe to God no grateful lays,
Yet all day long they seem to me
In loveliness to speak His praise.

And I have learn'd a dearer lore,
Of blood-bought mercy freely won,
And my freed lip above shall pour
The praise in silence here begun.

Oh, happiest, who, running o'er
With God's good gifts in mercy given,
Turn from their own abundant store
To teach the dumb the songs of Heaven.

And tenfold more unblest than mine
His hopeless, heartless, thankless lot,
Who hears on earth no voice Divine,
Whose lip can speak, and praises not.