mute, sightless visitant, From what uncharted world Hast voyaged into Life’s rude sea, With guidance scant; As if some bark mysteriously Should hither glide, with spars aslant And sails all furled! In what perpetual dawn, Child of the spotless brow, Hast kept thy spirit far withdrawn— Thy birthright undefiled? What views to thy sealed eyes appear? What voices mayst thou hear Speak as we know not how? Of grief and sin hast thou, O radiant child, Even thou, a share? Can mortal taint Have power on thee unfearing The woes our sight, our hearing, Learn from Earth’s crime and plaint? Not as we see Earth, sky, insensate forms, ourselves, Thou seest,—but vision-free Thy fancy soars and delves, Albeit no sounds to us relate The wondrous things Thy brave imaginings Within their starry night create. Pity thy unconfined Clear spirit, whose enfranchised eyes Use not their grosser sense? Ah, no! thy bright intelligence Hath its own Paradise, A realm wherein to hear and see Things hidden from our kind. Not thou, not thou—’t is we Are deaf, are dumb, are blind! 1888.
Helen Keller
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