（To Eleonora Duse）

    We are anhungered after solitude¹, Deep stillness pure of any speech or sound, Soft quiet hovering² over pools profound, The silences that on the desert brood, Above a windless hush³ of empty seas, The broad unfurling banners of the dawn, A faery forest where there sleeps a Faun； Our souls are fain of solitudes⁴ like these. O woman who divined our weariness, And set the crown of silence on your art, From what undreamed-of depth within your heart Have you sent forth⁵ the hush that makes us free To hear an instant, high above earth's stress, The silent music of infinity⁶？