Words 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 raindrops 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 clear As 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 for ever 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.
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