To –

 

TOO little didst thou speak at any time;
In dim obscurity thy gentle glow
Thou let’st to burn; no we, thy ways did know
So well, could help but wonder at what crime
Thou had’st committed, or what harboured shame
Thou in the deep recesses of thine heart
Close cloistered from the callous world apart,
Kept to thyself and laughed at men and fame.
We knew thee well! Too well, I sometimes think,
For knowing thee to us thy silence meant
More than to others, for all else we lent
And borrowed, share to rise, and shared to sink.
Ah, I remember well thine aspect glum –
We all too quick forgot that thou wert dumb!

23. 3. 1928

Fifty-ninth sonnet