Love hath a language for all years- Fond hieroglyphs, obscure and old- Wherein the heart reads, writ in tears, The tale which never yet was told. Love hath his meter too, to trace Those bounds which never yet were given,- To measure that which mocks at space, Is deep as death, and high as heaven. Love hath his treasure hoards, to pay True faith, or goodly service done,- Dear priceless nothings, which outweigh All riches that the sun shines on. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LEFT BEHIND by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN ON MICHAEL ANGELO by WASHINGTON ALLSTON A PUBLIC DANCE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE ZONE OF VENUS by ANTIPHANES GLOW OF DAWN by ELIDA PATTISON BENTLEY THE BOOK TO THE READER by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |