Higginson and Bigelow, comps. American Sonnets. 1891.
From out eternal stillness do we comeGertrude Bloede (Stuart Sterne) (18451905)
F
Into eternal silence do we go;
For was there not a time, and swift or slow,
Must come again, when all this world’s loud hum
Was naught to us, and must again grow dumb
Through all eternity?—Between two low,
Dark, stony portals, with much empty show
Of tinkling brass and sounding fife and drum,
The endless Caravan of Life moves on;
Or whence or whither, to what destiny,
But He who dwells beyond the furthest dawn
Knows, yet reveals not, evermore even He
In silence wrapt, though deepest thunders roll,
Save for His deathless message to our soul!