Classic Poem

And the dread Silence, seated on the brow
Of the exalted Bluff, would start, and find
An hundred tongues to utter vow for vow;
Startling the browsing elk and slumbering hind,
In the resounding woods. Like Truth enshrined
Within the well, so in my steadfast soul
Love waited for thee, as the patient mind
Waits for the coming thought that will extol
Some lofty purpose struggling skyward to its goal.