The Iceberg and Other Poems

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

BE QUIET, WIND


 

BE quiet, wind, a little while,
    And let me hear my heart.
You chiming rivulet still your chant
    And stealthily depart.

You whisperings in the aspen leaves,

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    You far-heard whip-poor-will,
You slow drop spilling from the rose—
    You, even you, be still.

I must have infinite silence now,
    Lest I should miss one word

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Of all my heart would say to me—
    Now, when its deeps are stirred.

Hardly I dare my breath to draw
    Lest breathing break the spell,—
While we commune, my heart and I,

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    In dreams too deep to tell.