I Walk Down The Valley Of Silence -- Down The Dim, Voiceless Valley -- Alone! And I Hear Not The Fall Of A Footstep Around Me, Save God'S And My Own; And The Hush Of My Heart Is As Holy As Hovers Where Angels Have Flown! Long Ago Was I Weary Of Voices Whose Music My Heart Could Not Win; Long Ago Was I Weary Of Noises That Fretted My Soul With Their Din; Long Ago Was I Weary Of Places Where I Met But The Human -- And Sin. I Walked In The World With The Worldly; I Craved What The World Never Gave; And I Said: "In The World Each Ideal, That Shines Like A Star On Life'S Wave, Is Wrecked On The Shores Of The Real, And Sleeps Like A Dream In A Grave." And Still Did I Pine For The Perfect, And Still Found The False With The True; I Sought 'Mid The Human For Heaven, But Caught A Mere Glimpse Of Its Blue: And I Wept When The Clouds Of The Mortal Veiled Even That Glimpse From My View. And I Toiled On, Heart-Tired, Of The Human, And I Moaned 'Mid The Mazes Of Men, Till I Knelt, Long Ago, At An Altar And I Heard A Voice Call Me. Since Then I Walk Down The Valley Of Silence That Lies Far Beyond Mortal Ken. Do You Ask What I Found In The Valley? 'Tis My Trysting Place With The Divine. And I Fell At The Feet Of The Holy, And Above Me A Voice Said: "Be Mine." And There Arose From The Depths Of My Spirit An Echo -- "My Heart Shall Be Thine." Do You Ask How I Live In The Valley? I Weep -- And I Dream -- And I Pray. But My Tears Are As Sweet As The Dewdrops That Fall On The Roses In May; And My Prayer, Like A Perfume From Censers, Ascendeth To God Night And Day. In The Hush Of The Valley Of Silence I Dream All The Songs That I Sing; And The Music Floats Down The Dim Valley, Till Each Finds A Word For A Wing, That To Hearts, Like The Dove Of The Deluge, A Message Of Peace They May Bring. But Far On The Deep There Are Billows That Never Shall Break On The Beach; And I Have Heard Songs In The Silence That Never Shall Float Into Speech; And I Have Had Dreams In The Valley Too Lofty For Language To Reach. And I Have Seen Thoughts In The Valley -- Ah! Me, How My Spirit Was Stirred! And They Wear Holy Veils On Their Faces, Their Footsteps Can Scarcely Be Heard; They Pass Through The Valley Like Virgins, Too Pure For The Touch Of A Word! Do You Ask Me The Place Of The Valley, Ye Hearts That Are Harrowed By Care? It Lieth Afar Between Mountains, And God And His Angels Are There: And One Is The Dark Mount Of Sorrow, And One The Bright Mountain Of Prayer.