The Kiss
1. AMONG thy fancies tell me this:
What is the thing we call a kiss?
2. I shall resolve ye what it is:
It is a creature born and bred
Between the lips all cherry red,
By love and warm desires fed;
Chor. And makes more soft the bridal bed.
It is an active flame, that flies
First to the babies of the eyes,
And charms them there with lullabies;
Chor. And stills the bride too when she cries.
Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear,
It frisks and flies,—now here, now there;
’T is now far off, and then ’t is near;
Chor. And here, and there, and everywhere.
1. Has it a speaking virtue?—2. Yes.
1. How speaks it, say?—2. Do you but this:
Part your joined lips,—then speaks your kiss;
Chor. And this love’s sweetest language is.
1. Has it a body?—2. Ay, and wings,
With thousand rare encolorings;
And as it flies it gently sings;
Chor. Love honey yields, but never stings.