The End
To us
Who were
Of necessary birth
For the earth's hard
And thankless toil
Silence has no meaning
There is never a feeling
Of tranquility
Or mere quietness
Never a moment
Of soundless calm
From within or without
Our troubled selves
How can the clamor
Of sounds be stilled?
This silent bond
To determine the [?]
To the use to create
Hills of soft obedience
Where sweet-clothed sounds
Can rebound
And their echoes glide
Like a carefree bird
In rythmic calm
To a mellow
Pure, silent space