When Julia chid, I stood as mute the while, As is the fish, or tonguelesse Crocadile. Aire coyn'd to words, my Julia co'd not heare; But she co'd see each eye to stamp a teare: By which, mine angry Mistresse might descry, Teares are the noble language of the eye. And when true love of words is destitute, The Eyes by tears speak, while the Tongue is mute. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NATURAL HISTORY by MOTHER GOOSE THE SHADED WATER by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS THE LONG AGO by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN TAYLOR RUMORS FROM AN AEOLIAN HARP by HENRY DAVID THOREAU THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |