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...IF I AM SITTING CLOSE TO YOU by JESSIE DOWNS BELKNAP A SONNET TO HEAVENLY BEAUTY by JOACHIM DU BELLAY NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 11 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE DOWNS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TOWN AND COUNTRY by RUPERT BROOKE ABER STATIONS: STATIO QUINTA by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE COMING HUNS by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV TO A LADY, ON BEING ASKED MY REASON FOR QUITTING ENGLAND by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |