WHEN lovers talk, they talk a foreign tongue. Their words are not like ours, But full of meanings like the throb of flowers Yet in the earth, unborn. I think the snow Feels the mysterious passage and the flow Of inarticulate streams that surge below. And it is easy learning for the young; When lovers talk, they talk a foreign tongue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CORIDON'S SONG (IN ISAAK WALTON'S 'COMPLEAT ANGLER') by JOHN CHALKHILL SESTET SENT TO A FRIEND WITH A VOLUME OF TENNYSON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE CLOAK by ANNA LOUISE BARNEY CLOD OF THE EARTH by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |