When the dumb Hour, clothed in black,
Brings the Dreams about my bed,
Call me not so often back,
Silent Voices of the dead,
Toward the lowland ways behind me,
And the sunlight that is gone!
Call me rather, silent voices,
Forward to the starry track
Glimmering up the heights beyond me
On, and always on!
The Silent Voices
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Poem topics: black, sunlight, silent, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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