They who are strong have claimed an earthly peace,
Gathering their strength in this treasured hour
When the winds hush, the muted waters cease,
And fog with misty wings has raised a tower
Of silence as a harbor for the stars:
When hills have cleft the sky with brooding peaks
Thrust in the purple bowl, raised solemn bars
Against all utterance, he who then speaks
Shall in this mighty breathlessness be heard.
They shall be heard, the weary and the spent,
The broken at the wheel, the fledgling bird,
Each grievous thought, each yearning here unspent
Shall have its reckoning when the hills confide.
They shall find strength where peace and time abide.