I do not care to talk to you although 
Your speech evokes a thousand sympathies, 
And all my being's silent harmonies 
Wake trembling into music. When you go 
It is as if some sudden, dreadful blow 
Had severed all the strings with savage ease. 
No, do not talk; but let us rather seize 
This intimate gift of silence which we know. 
Others may guess your thoughts from what you say, 
As storms are guessed from clouds where darkness broods. 
To me the very essence of the day 
Reveals its inner purpose and its moods; 
As poplars feel the rain and then straightway 
Reverse their leaves and shimmer through the woods.