149
UNSPOKEN WORDS.
THE kindly words that rise within the heart,
And thrill it with their sympathetic tone,
But die ere spoken, fail to play their part.
And claim a merit that is not their own.
The kindly word unspoken is a sin,—
A sin that wraps itself in purest guise.
And tells the heart that, doubting, looks within.
That not in speech, but thought, the virtue lies.
But 'tis not so: another heart may thirst
For that kind word, as Hagar in the wild—
Poor banished Hagar!—prayed a well might burst
From out the sand to save her parching chUd.
And loving eyes that cannot see the mind
Will watch the expected movement of the lip:
Ah! can ye let its cutting silence wind
Around that heart, and scathe it like a whip?