COME to me, dearest! Oh, I cannot bear These barren words of worship that to each The other utters. In the finer speech Of soft caresses let our souls declare Their opulence of love; for while instead We linger prattling, kind Occasion slips, Leaving to pensive sighs the pallid lips That else for pleasure had been ruby red. Thanks! darling, thanks! Ah, happier than a king In all beatitude of royal bliss Is he whose mouth (again! oh perfect kiss!) May thus unto thine own with rapture cling; For very joy of love content to live Unquestioning if Love have more to give! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DANCERS by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY THE BROWN THRUSH by LUCY LARCOM PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 58. AL-MUHSI by EDWIN ARNOLD THE BRAWL by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE OLD VAGABOND by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER A POEM, DEDICATED TO WILLIAM LAW, PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY by ROBERT BLAIR |