Nor silent is but that with no noise to recommend.

Short of her breath was an erstwhile walk,
Shall she seek far the sun that hence brought,
She is singing through the whispers of thousand,
I am broken, my voice is; voice is, voice gone,
And my little ears can only hear so loud,
She is singing away, alas my voice cannot respond;
Though silent is my head as much noise my heart aches,
So drops the chalice of my tears into dark,
Alas, she can only walk for all a thousand,
She’s following the road to see herself,
She sees, then she sees, above all; she sees,
There was one tree that she encircled so casual,
But vain attempt that ere would never ere be guile,
Is her pursuit of myself so loving, so dangerous;
Would she confront the most darkened man alive?
I am sweet; I am strong; my tears fall; my heart aches,
Tis not my nature to esteem; I shall rest till then,
Who walks away without seeing me part for naught,
Betrays me here, sees me banished and rejoins,
A sight besought, a voice bespoke, a noisy love:
No moment does not pass without neither of us silent.