The Kiss.— A la Moore .
'Tis a sweet boy! his eye is bright,
Smooth is his cheek, and velvet soft,
And his rosy, pulpy lips invite
The kiss I give, in sooth, full oft.
How glows my eye, and my heart, how wild
It beats, as I kiss the lovely child!
But there's a cause ye little ken,
Why thus I love to kiss the boy!
If thou wert absent, Julia, then,
The kiss I love so soon would cloy,
'Twould not be half so oft as now,
'Twould not be half so sweet, I trow.
I mark when thy lip presses his,
And, ere the dewy moisture's flown,
I steal it with another kiss,
And dream I rip it from thy own!
E'en such a kiss thrills through my heart,
What bliss would thine own lips impart!
P. H.
Written in the summer of 1827.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
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