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When our souls youth's dream-chains [?] shiver,
   And we leap the World's scant rill,
Which had seemed a mighty river
Roaring on and on forever
      'Tween us and Self-trust's steep hill, -
      Then the trembling tongue is still.

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Oh! sweet Silence! they belied thee
   Who have called thee vain and weak;
Speech[?] is emptiness beside thee,
Joy and [?] have glorified thee,
      Love and longing never seek
      Any better way to speak.

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All the deepest thoughts and feelings
   Which the roots of life unfold,
Passion's sudden shocks and reelings,
Love's first tremulous revealings,
      Never can be fully told,
      Save by thee, wearied of old!