In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea, Or in the wide desert where no life is found. HOOD. _Sonnet, Silence._ The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 957.
silence life mind deep feelings grave find waste found sea desert cold void
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