THE DEAF SCHOOLMASTER.
He cannot hear the skylark sing,
The music of the wild bee’s wing;
The murmur of the plaining bough;
A gentle whisper fairy low;
The noise of falling waters near—
All these have left his mournful ear.
A sad, sad silence, whose worst power
Is felt in others’ gladdest hour.
But, ah, to what can it not move
Th' unconquerable strength of love!
See how he bends above the page,
For him—the child of his old age.
The ear is deaf, the eye is dim,
Yet anxious and alive for him.
How deep and tender is the debt,
Whose seal on that young heart is set;
Little, perchance, may be the aid,
Not so the fondness which essayed
To help amid this learned coil,
And smooth the youthful student's toil.
Mid all the sorrow and the crime,
Man's destiny from earliest time;
Mid all that can debase, degrade,
How beautiful this earth is made,
By pure affection, deep and dear,
Affection like that pictured here!
