Silence
Unbind the laurel from immortal brows
And cast it down, ye lyric seraph train,
For Love hath sought from your gold-throated band
Her adoration's chorister in vain.
Nor hath the lyre of Israfel prevailed,
Nor pastoral piping sweet of Sicily,
Nor lesser voices sighing deathless vows,
Nor votary of any Muse — for she
Neither by silver lute nor breath prefers
Divine begotten secrets be confessed;
Nay — Love made wise by stars inscrutable,
Worships in silence on the loved one's breast.
Mute now your flashing strings, oh, rainbow harp!
Oh, viols fond forbear your minstrelsy!
Nor nightingale be chanting on —
Love wills
All Nature's nuptial chorus hushed shall be —
Than passion's trembling eloquence more blest
Deemeth she silence — on the loved one's breast.
And cast it down, ye lyric seraph train,
For Love hath sought from your gold-throated band
Her adoration's chorister in vain.
Nor hath the lyre of Israfel prevailed,
Nor pastoral piping sweet of Sicily,
Nor lesser voices sighing deathless vows,
Nor votary of any Muse — for she
Neither by silver lute nor breath prefers
Divine begotten secrets be confessed;
Nay — Love made wise by stars inscrutable,
Worships in silence on the loved one's breast.
Mute now your flashing strings, oh, rainbow harp!
Oh, viols fond forbear your minstrelsy!
Nor nightingale be chanting on —
Love wills
All Nature's nuptial chorus hushed shall be —
Than passion's trembling eloquence more blest
Deemeth she silence — on the loved one's breast.
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