Henry King, Bishop of Chichester (Генри Кинг, епископ Чичестерский)

Silence

A Sonnet

Peace my hearts blab, be ever dumb,
Sorrowes speak loud without a tongue:
And my perplexed thoughts forbear
To breath your selves in any ear:
Tis scarce a true or manly grief
Which gaddes abroad to find relief.
Was ever stomack that lackt meat
Nourisht by what another eat?
Can I bestow it, or will woe
Forsake me when I bid it goe?
Then Ile believe a wounded breast
May heal by shrift, and purchase rest.
But if imparting it I do
Not ease my self, but trouble two,
'Tis better I alone possess
My treasure of unhappiness:
Engrossing that which is my own
No longer then it is unknown.
If silence be a kind of death,
He kindles grief who gives it breath;
But let it rak't in embers lye,
On thine own hearth 'twill quickly dye;
And spight of fate, that very wombe
Which carries it, shall prove its tombe. 

1. On Two Children Dying Of One Disease, And Buried In One Grave
2. To the Queen at Oxford
3. Madam Gabrina, Or The Ill-Favourd Choice
4. The Short Wooing
5. Another Of The Same, Paraphrased For An Antheme

Edgar Masters (Эдгар Мастерс) Silence ("I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea")

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