SCRoots, THE SILENT GIRL

THE SILENT GIRL
by Samuel Gilman

She seldom spake; yet she imparted
  Far more than language could;
So bird-like, bright, and tender-hearted,
  So natural and good!
Her air, her look, her rest, her actions,
  Were voice enough for her;
What needs a tongue, when those attractions
  Our inmost hearts could stir?

She seldom talked; but, uninvited,
  Would cheer us with a song;
And oft her hands our ears delighted,
  Sweeping the keys along;
And oft, when converse round would languish,
  Ask'd or unask'd, she read
Some tale of gladness or of anguish,
  And so our evenings sped.

She seldom spake; but she would listen,
  With all the signs of soul;
Her cheek would change, her eye would glisten;
  The sigh, the smile, upstole.
Who did not understand and love her,
  With meaning thus o'erfraught?
Though silent as the sky above her,
  Like that, she kindled thought.

Little she spake; but dear attentions
  From her would ceaseless rise;
She check'd our wants by kind preventions,
  She hush'd the children's cries.
And, twining, she would give her mother
  A long and loving kiss;
The same to father, sister, brother,
  All round, nor one would miss.

She seldom spake; she speaks no longer;
  She sleeps beneath yon rose;
'Tis well for us that ties no stronger
  Awaken memory's woes.
For oh! our hearts would sure be broken,
  Already drain'd of tears,
If frequent tones, by her outspoken,
  Still linger'd in our ears.

Samuel Gilman (1791-1858) was raised in New England and educated at Harvard. He married and moved to Charleston, South Carolina, around 1819 where he served as minister of the Second Independent (Unitarian) Church and chaplain of the Washington Light Infantry. His poetry and essays were widely published and a collection of his works titled "Contributions to Literature" was published about 1856.

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