SONG OF THE MYSTIC
By Abram J. Ryan
I walk down the Valley of Silence—Down the dim voiceless Valley—alone!And I hear not the fall of a footstepAround me, save God’s and my own;And the hush of my heart is as holyAs hovers where angels have flown!Long ago was I weary of voicesWhose magic my heart could not win;Long ago was I weary of noisesThat fretted my soul with their din;Long ago was I weary of placesWhere I met but the human—and sin.I walked through the world with the worldly;I craved what the world never gave;And I said: “In the world, each IdealThat 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,And caught a mere glimpse of its blue;And I wept when the clouds of the mortalVeiled 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 altarAnd heard a voice call me. Since thenI walk down the Valley of SilenceThat lies far beyond human 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 rose from the depths of my spiritAn 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 dewdropsThat fall on the roses in May;And my prayers, 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 men, like the Dove of the Deluge,A message of Peace they may bring.But far on the deep there are billowsThat never shall break on the beach;And I have heard songs in the SilenceThat never shall float into speech;And I have had dreams in the ValleyToo 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 virginsToo 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.
I walk down the Valley of Silence—Down the dim voiceless Valley—alone!And I hear not the fall of a footstepAround me, save God’s and my own;And the hush of my heart is as holyAs hovers where angels have flown!Long ago was I weary of voicesWhose magic my heart could not win;Long ago was I weary of noisesThat fretted my soul with their din;Long ago was I weary of placesWhere I met but the human—and sin.I walked through the world with the worldly;I craved what the world never gave;And I said: “In the world, each IdealThat 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,And caught a mere glimpse of its blue;And I wept when the clouds of the mortalVeiled 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 altarAnd heard a voice call me. Since thenI walk down the Valley of SilenceThat lies far beyond human 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 rose from the depths of my spiritAn 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 dewdropsThat fall on the roses in May;And my prayers, 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 men, like the Dove of the Deluge,A message of Peace they may bring.But far on the deep there are billowsThat never shall break on the beach;And I have heard songs in the SilenceThat never shall float into speech;And I have had dreams in the ValleyToo 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 virginsToo 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.
I walk down the Valley of Silence—Down the dim voiceless Valley—alone!And I hear not the fall of a footstepAround me, save God’s and my own;And the hush of my heart is as holyAs hovers where angels have flown!
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 voicesWhose magic my heart could not win;Long ago was I weary of noisesThat fretted my soul with their din;Long ago was I weary of placesWhere I met but the human—and sin.
Long ago was I weary of voices
Whose magic 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 through the world with the worldly;I craved what the world never gave;And I said: “In the world, each IdealThat shines like a star on life’s wave,Is wrecked on the shores of the Real,And sleeps like a dream in a grave.”
I walked through 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,And caught a mere glimpse of its blue;And I wept when the clouds of the mortalVeiled even that glimpse from my view.
And still did I pine for the Perfect,
And still found the false with the true;
I sought ’mid the human for heaven,
And 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 altarAnd heard a voice call me. Since thenI walk down the Valley of SilenceThat lies far beyond human ken.
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 heard a voice call me. Since then
I walk down the Valley of Silence
That lies far beyond human 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 rose from the depths of my spiritAn echo—“My heart shall be thine.”
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 rose 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 dewdropsThat fall on the roses in May;And my prayers, like a perfume from censers,Ascendeth to God, night and day.
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 prayers, 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 men, like the Dove of the Deluge,A message of Peace they may bring.
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 men, like the Dove of the Deluge,
A message of Peace they may bring.
But far on the deep there are billowsThat never shall break on the beach;And I have heard songs in the SilenceThat never shall float into speech;And I have had dreams in the ValleyToo lofty for language to reach.
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 virginsToo pure for the touch of a word!
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.
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.