The Silence of Love

Anonymous

I hold that we are wrong to seek
To put in words our deepest thought;
The purer things by Nature taught
Are turned to coarser when we speak.
The flower whose perfume charms the sense
Grows hard and common to the touch,
And love that's wordy overmuch
Is marred by its experience;
For love, like sympathy, hath bands
More strong in silence than in speech,
And hearts speak loudest, each to each,
Throught meeting lips and clasp of hands.
Nor could I hope for fitting word
To form in speech the thoughts that start;
The inner core of every heart
Hath yearnings that are never heard.