Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LOST THRILL, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LOST THRILL, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I grow so weary, someway, of all
Last Line: A love ever poured through lips of mine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F.
Subject(s): Kisses; Love - Complaints


I GROW so weary, someway, of all things
That love and loving have vouchsafed to me,
Since now all dreamed-of sweets of ecstasy
Am I possessed of: The caress that clings --
The lips that mix with mine with murmurings
No language may interpret, and the free,
Unfettered brood of kisses, hungrily
Feasting in swarms on honey blossomings
Of passion's fullest flower -- For yet I miss
The essence that alone makes love divine --
The subtle flavoring no tang of this
Weak wine of melody may here define: --
A something found and lost in the first kiss
A love ever poured through lips of mine.





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