I calmed her fears, and she was calm, And so I won my Genevieve, My bright and beauteous bride. Samuel Taylor Coleridge. LXXVI. KISSES. WHAT IS A KISS? AMONG thy fancies tell me this: It is a creature born and bred It is an active flame that flies And charms them there with lullabies, Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, Has it a speaking virtue?—Yes. How speaks it? Say.-Do you but this : Has it a body?-Ay, and wings, And, as it flies, it gently sings; Robert Herrick. LXXVII. KISSES. RECIPROCATION. THE fountains mingle with the river, See the mountains kiss high heaven, LXXVIII. KISSES. Percy Bysshe Shelley. THE WHISPERED NO." ONE kiss, dear maid!-I said and sighed Your scorn the little boon denied. Ah, why refuse the blameless bliss? Can danger lurk within a kiss? Yon viewless wanderer of the vale, At morning's break, at evening's close, And hover's o'er the uninjured bloom, Vigour to the zephyr's wing Her nectar-breathing kisses fling; And he the glitter of the dew Well pleased I hear the whispered "No!" And tempts with feigned dissuasion coy The gentle violence of joy. Samuel Taylor Coleridge. LXXIX. KISSES. JENNY KISSED ME. JENNY kissed me when we met, Sweets into your list, put that in. Say I'm weary, say I'm sad ; Say that health and wealth have missed me; Say I'm growing old, but add- Jenny kissed me ! James Henry Leigh Hunt. LXXX. LOVE'S TIME OF ROSES. IT was not in the winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the time of roses : We plucked them as we passed. That churlish season never frowned Oh, no-the world was newly crowned 'Twas twilight, and I bade you go, We plucked them as we passed. Thomas Hood. LXXXI, LOVE'S GARDEN-WAITING. COME into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown ; Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves, On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die. All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon; All night has the casement jessamine stirred Till a silence fell with the waking bird, I said to the lily, "There is but one Now half to the setting moon are gone, Low on the sand and loud on the stone I said to the rose, "The brief night goes O young lord-lover, what sighs are those, But mine, but mine," so I sware to the rose, And the soul of the rose went into my blood, As the music clashed in the hall; And long by the garden gate I stood, For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Our wood, that is dearer than all; From the meadow your walks have left so sweet, That whenever a March-wind sighs, He sets the jewel print of your feet In violets blue as your eyes, To the woody hollows in which we meet The slender acacia would not shake The lilies and roses were all awake, They sighed for the dawn and thee. Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, |