“Where silence dwells is sweeter far,” and you must forgive me, dear readers, for my extended silence. Fair warning: I am about to speak up.
In the meantime, a poem:
How still, how happy! Those are words
That once would scarce agree together;
I loved the plashing of the surge—
The changing heaven the breezy weather,
More than smooth seas and cloudless skies
And solemn, soothing, softened airs
That in the forest woke no sighs
And from the green spray shook no tears.
How still, how happy! now I feel
Where silence dwells is sweeter far
Than laughing mirth’s most