Gitanjali: 19

If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and
endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and
its head bent low with patience.
The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy
voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.
Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my
birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my
forest groves.