When silence as my aptest singing sits

When silence as my aptest singing sits
Perched atop old boughs of weighty song
And all my voluble voice is simply fit
For inner comment at what comes along

Then I know our hours are most golden
And have a tone of knowing something more
Than rapid words that flit and flit may hold
With all their chorus of singing by the score.

Then I know a single note unsung
And held in inner vibrato only
Keeps the tune alone when all's unstrung
And song without beginning lingers only.

Then I look into your two eyes, dear one,
And hear what symphony we have begun.