Poems (Procter)/Words

by Adelaide Anne Procter

For works with similar titles, see Words.

WORDS.

ORDS are lighter than the cloud-foam Of the restless ocean spray;Vainer than the trembling shadow That the next hour steals away.By the fall of summer rain-drops Is the air as deeply stirred;And the rose-leaf that we tread on  Will outlive a word.

Yet, on the dull silence breaking With a lightning flash, a Word,Bearing endless desolation On its blighting wings, I heard: Earth can forge no keener weapon, Dealing surer death and pain,And the cruel echo answered  Through long years again.

I have known one word hang starlike O'er a dreary waste of years,And it only shone the brighter Looked at through a mist of tears;While a weary wanderer gathered Hope and heart on Life's dark way,By its faithful promise, shining  Clearer day by day.

I have known a spirit, calmer Than the calmest lake, and clearAs the heavens that gazed upon it, With no wave of hope or fear;But a storm had swept across it, And its deepest depths were stirred,(Never, never more to slumber,)  Only by a word.

I have known a word more gentle Than the breath of summer air;In a listening heart it nestled, And it lived forever there.Not the beating of its prison Stirred it ever, night or day;Only with the heart's last throbbing  Could it fade away.

Words are mighty, words are living: Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light upon their wings:Every word has its own spirit, True or false, that never dies;Every word man's lips have uttered  Echoes in God's skies.