'The soul is its own witness and its own refuge'
Unto the deep the deep heart goes,
It lays its sadness nigh the breast:
Only the Mighty Mother knows
The wounds that quiver unconfessed.
It seeks a deeper silence still;
It folds itself around with peace,
Where thoughts alike of good or ill
In quietness unfostered cease.
It feels in the unwounding vast
For comfort for its hopes and fears:
The Mighty Mother bows at last;
She listens to her children's tears.
Where the last anguish deepens--there
The fire of beauty smites through pain:
A glory moves amid despair,
The Mother takes her child again.
The Place Of Rest
George William Russell
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Poem topics: beauty, child, children, despair, fire, heart, pain, peace, silence, soul, good, comfort, anguish, deep, mother, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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