THERE ARE WITHIN US LIVES WE NEVER LIVE

by: Zona Gale (1874-1938)

      HERE are within us lives we never live
      By sense or soul, for being does not know
      To tell their depth or breast their flow
      Or to taste the sweetness that they give.
      And now in distance, now in voices still,
      In pity or in harmony, in sleep,
      We lead unconscious lives, old, deep,
      Upon the far slope of an unknown hill.
       
      Is it not here that life walks wreathed at last?
      Many a soul meets many a soul with this:
      That muted lips and wistful eyes are passed
      In silence; yet a sign there is
      Burning in air, though but a shadow fall
      Or some pale sunbeam steal along the wall.

"There Are Within Us Lives We Never Live" is reprinted from The Secret Way. Zona Gale. New York: Macmillan Co., 1921.

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