What bitter sorrow courses down
Yon mourner-s faded cheek?
Those scalding drops betray a grief
Within, too full to speak.
Outspoken words cannot express
The pangs, the pains of years;
They-re ne-er so deep or eloquent
As are those silent tears.
Here is a wound that in the breast
Must canker, hid-n from sight;
Though all without seems sunny day,
Within -Tis ever night.
Yet sometimes from this secret source
The gloomy truth appears;
The wind-s dark dungeon must have vent
If but in silent tears.

The world may deem from outward looks
That heart is hard and cold;
But oh! could they the mantle lift
What sorrows would be told!
Then, only then, the truth would show
Which most the bosom sears:
The pain portrayed by burning words
Or that by-silent tears.