Words

I can not tell what I would tell thee, What I would say, what thou shouldst hear; Words of the soul that should compel thee, Words of the heart to draw thee near.

For when thou smilest, thou, who fillest My life with joy, and I would speak, ’Tis then my lips and tongue are stillest, Knowing all language is too weak.

Look in my eyes: read there confession: The truest love hath least of art: Nor needs it words for its expression When soul speaks soul and heart speaks heart.