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...EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA OLNEY HYMNS: 1. WALKING WITH GOD by WILLIAM COWPER GROWING GRAY by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE WATER MILL by SARAH DOUDNEY A CHRISTMAS CAROL by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND AN AUTOGRAPH (1) by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |