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.
The Kiss
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