Silent Tears
What bitter sorrow courses downYon mourner’s faded cheek?Those scalding drops betray a griefWithin, too full to speak.Outspoken words cannot expressThe pangs, the pains of years;They’re ne’er so deep or eloquentAs are those silent tears.
Here is a wound that in the breastMust canker, hid’n from sight;Though all without seems sunny day,Within ’tis ever night.Yet sometimes from this secret sourceThe gloomy truth appears;The wind’s dark dungeon must have ventIf but in silent tears.
The world may deem from outward looksThat heart is hard and cold;But oh! could they the mantle liftWhat sorrows would be told!Then, only then, the truth would showWhich most the bosom sears:The pain portrayed by burning wordsOr that by—silent tears.