Poetry: The Silent Mutineer

For wc are many in our Solitude. - [Larncnt rf Tasso.] A mighty and n mingled throng Were gather'd in onc spot, The DwellerG of a thousand Homes - Yet 'midst tliem Voice was not. The Soldier and lier Chief were there - The Mothcr and her Child: The friends, the Sisters of one hearth- ' None spoke - none moved - none smiled. There lovers met, between whose lives Yeare had ewept darkiy by; Aftcr that heart-sick hope dcferr'd - They met - but eilently. Yon mighl have hcard the rustling leaf. Tlie brecze's faintest sound, The shiver of an insect's wing On that fhick-peoplé groünd! Your voice to whispers would have died, For tiie deep quict'ssike; Your tread the sofiest rnoss have son-jht, Suclj stillness not to break. What held the counüess Multitude Bound in that spell oí pcace? How could the .ever-suunding liie Antid so many ceae? Was it some pageant of the air - Some glory high above? That link'dand husli'd ihoee human souls, In re vuren lial love, A mighiier ihing - Doath, Death himself Lay on each lonely hearll Kindred were there - yet hermits all - Thoueond8 - 4m each npmt,