AT STOCKHOLM 
49 
 
 
 
 
 
AT STOCKHOLM 
 
We could not speak, although the sudden glow 
Of passion mantling to the crimson cheek 
Of either, told our tale of love, although 
We could not speak. 
 
What need of language, barren and false and bleak, 
While our white arms could link each other so, 
And fond red lips their partners mutely seek ? 
 
What time for language, when our kisses flow 
Eloquent, warm, as words are cold and weak ?— 
Or now—Ah !  sweetheart, even were it so 
We could not speak !