Classic Poem

How thin have become our words! How they falter and drop
Before the deeper eloquence of this sound!
This meaning begins at the place where all words stop;
It is feeling, inevitable, profound.

There is no need for words, or the hand's light touch;
The heart is at peace, its restless hunger stilled.
It is quiet, not asking either for little or much,
Simply receiving, like a deep pool that is filled.

Without is confusion; somewhere dark and remote
In another world there are doubts and agonies.
Only certainty pours from your lyric throat,
And strength from these beneficent harmonies.

So we are moved from a moment out of this room.
It may be the lamplight that shines upon your face;
The shadow behind you may be the end of doom.
How shall we know who are trespassers in this place?