The passion you forbade my lips to utter <br />Will not be silenced. You must hear it in <br />The sullen thunders when they roll and mutter: <br />And when the tempest nears, with wail and din, <br />I know your calm forgetfulness is broken, <br />And to your heart you whisper, 'He has spoken.' <br /> <br />All nature understands and sympathises <br />With human passion. When the restless sea <br />Turns in its futile search for peace, and rises <br />To plead and to pursue, it pleads for me. <br />And with each desperate billow's anguished fretting. <br />Your heart must tell you, 'He is not forgetting.' <br /> <br />When unseen hands in lightning strokes are writing <br />Mysterious words upon a cloudy scroll, <br />Know that my pent-up passion is inditing <br />A cypher message for your woman's soul; <br />And when the lawless winds rush by you shrieking, <br />Let your heart say, 'Now his despair is speaking.' <br /> <br />Love comes, nor goes, at beck or call of reason, <br />Nor is love silent, though it says no word; <br />By day or night, in any clime or season, <br />A dominating passion must be heard. <br />So shall you hear, through Junes and through Decembers, <br />The voice of Nature saying, 'He remembers.'<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/forbidden-speech/
