The music had the heat of blood, A passion that no words can reach; We sat together, and understood Our own heart's speech. We had no need of word or sign, The music spoke for us, and said All that her eyes could read in mine Or mine in hers had read. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HILL WIFE: THE SMILE by ROBERT FROST A ST. HELENA LULLABY by RUDYARD KIPLING THOSE EVENING BELLS by THOMAS MOORE DULCE ET DECORUM EST by WILFRED OWEN ON AN ANNIVERSARY by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE NEXT DAY; IN THE TRAIN by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA |