Deaf American Poetry: An Anthology

The Silent Child of Art

Mary Toles Peet 47 The Silent Child of Art [Written on the graduation of Miss Ella Dillingham, a young art student at the New York Institution.] From out the south a gentle wind Blew o’er me as I slept, And, fair and bright in my girlish dreams, A radiant Presence stepped Before my eyes. Oh the look benign That o’er her fair face played Was tender as my mother’s touch, While calm for me she prayed! This Presence, so divinely fair, Bent with a queenly grace, The moonlight making bright her hair, The spirit light her face; And with a sign she beckoned me To follow where she led; Then I, not knowing yet her name, Arose with wavering tread; When all along the path she went Sprang flowers of varied hue, Some with the sunshine were besprent, And some were wet with dew, And forms of wondrous grace uprose, As if to meet her smile, And slow and stately was her step,— I following all the while. Then with a look whose meaning since Fills all my waking years, She pointed to the seven fair hills Whereon Art’s shrine appears. Mary Toles Peet 48 Oh, tender as the kiss of love Upon a weary brow, Beamed upon me her divinest smile As lowly I did bow. For then I knew her name was Art, And she had chosen me, From out the silence where I dwelt, Her humble child to be. And evermore with reverent soul I follow her behest, And day by day her hidden truths I seek with tireless quest. For somewhere in the coming years, O Rome! fair home of Art, Her hand shall open wide thy doors And joy sing in my heart; For form and color then shall fill With music all my days, And e’en this silence shall become More sweet than shouts of praise. ...