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Not an echo awakens the silence to break! 
Not a sigh bubbles up, the dark waters to shake! 
Aye ! ‘ the fountain of tears ’ seemeth locked in that 
soul, 
And its wrongs, and its griefs to the world are un¬ 
known ; 
For its waves are like lava, which boil as they roll, 
Then scathe and destroy — or turn into stone ! 
Oh, ’tis fearful the floodgates of feeling to keep, 
In a bosom that suffers, yet dares not to weep! 
Gifted man in his pride, as he steps o’er the earth 
Elate with his learning, and vain of his power, 
Will stoop to contemplate the sweetness and worth 
Of God’s best creation ; will build her a bower 
Which he wins her to bless with her smiles and her 
love, 
And enshrines her his own as a boon from above! 
