OH! might I kiss those eyes of fire, A million scarce would quench desire: Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And well an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be, Still would I kiss and cling to thee: Nought should my kiss from thine dissever; Still would we kiss, and kiss for ever, E'en though the numbers did exceed The yellow harvest's countless seed. To part would be a vain endeavour: Could I desist? -- ah! never -- never! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SURPRISE AT TICONDEROGA [MAY 10, 1775] by MARY ANNA PHINNEY STANSBURY SAN GABRIEL by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN BACCHUS AND THE FROGS by ARISTOPHANES THE STONECUTTER by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV A POTION by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON ALL'S WELL by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER |