Their silent wounds have speech More eloquent than men; Their tones can deeper reach Than human voice or pen.

In these lines, Woodman contrasts ordinary speech with the expressive power of suffering that is borne quietly. “Silent wounds” suggests injuries—physical or emotional—that are not openly narrated, yet still “speak” through presence, demeanor, or the moral claim they exert on observers. The stanza argues that such unvoiced pain can be more persuasive than rhetoric (“men”) and more affecting than artistic or written representation (“voice or pen”). The emphasis on “tones” implies a kind of music or resonance: the felt reality of endurance communicates at a depth language often cannot reach, inviting empathy and humility in the listener.