YOUNG and simple though I am, I have heard of Cupid's name: Guess I can what thing it is Men desire when they do kiss. Smoke can never burn, they say, But the flames that follow may. I am not so foul or fair To be proud nor to despair; Yet my lips have oft observed: Men that kiss them press them hard, As glad lovers use to do When their new-met loves they woo. Faith, 'tis but a foolish mind! Yet, methinks, a heat I find, Like thirst-longing, that doth bide Ever on my weaker side, Where they say my heart doth move. Venus, grant it be not love! If it be, alas, what then! Were not women made for men? As good 'twere a thing were past, That must needs be done at last. Roses that are overblown, Grow less sweet; then fall alone. Yet not churl, nor silken gull, Shall my maiden blossom pull; Who shall not I soon can tell; Who shall, would I could as well! This I know, whoe'er he be, Love he must or flatter me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APPROACH OF WINTER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A WINTER PIECE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT HYMN OF THE CITY by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE TAXI by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS MOST ANY BIT OF LANDSCAPE by JEAN CAMERON AGNEW EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 1 by LUCY AIKEN |