Or join him at evening play;
His eyes will flash with a human flame
And he looks what he cannot say;
For the bond between us two
Is that between me and you!
Or a sweet voiced angel come.
Would poor speech prove my soul’s delight,
Or ecstasy drive me dumb?
For the link ‘twixt them and me
Is long as Eternity.
Wide leagues our sentient forms divide
The loftier from the mean;
But soul to soul all planes are tied
When sympathy lies between;
And who shall say that the brute
Is soulless, though mean and mute?
George H. Nettle.
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