Poem Reading: The Voice of Truth

The Private Discourse of the Soul

When I converse with you or someone else,
I talk to no one other than myself;
Yet when alone I parley with my bells,
Their toll is not I, but the world itself.
A thousand tiny people speak in me,
A mock society of those I've met,
And those I'll meet, and those will never be−
All come together in this vocal net.
Their say is louder than of people living,
For in myself they're with my self confused;
Their praise is taunt; their judgment, unforgiving;
That actions pondered on are seldom used.
   Then silence all the tongues that speak so free:
   Yes! acting is the sole soliloquy.