Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LOVE'S FIRST KISS, by THOMAS STEWART



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LOVE'S FIRST KISS, by            
First Line: I, musingly, in mem'ry, cast my eyes
Last Line: But love's pure flame shall light eternal spheres.
Alternate Author Name(s): Rustic Rhymer
Subject(s): Kisses; Love; Memory


I, MUSINGLY, in mem'ry, cast my eyes
Back o'er the busy scenes of life I've past,
And wonder, 'mid its griefs, its cares, and joys,
Which joy perfection's mantle o'er me cast,
That which was sweetest in the happy past,
And whose impressions, deep, will longest last.

In joys of childhood, simple, and sincere,
Gain'd from a fading flower, or fragile toy,
E'en ere they fade, their beauties disappear,
Though bright, and true, how short each childish joy; --
One moment bright, with nothing to annoy,
Now 'whelm'd in grief, the little lisping boy.

My schoolboy days, when pride began to peep,
Ambition, newly born, with envious eye,
And greedy grasp, on Learning's ladder steep,
Each new step gain'd, how great my rising joy!
But schoolboy bliss ambition can destroy,
And so, e'en this, was an imperfect joy.

But ruder toils my op'ning manhood brought,
A widow'd mother's comfort was my care,
To soothe her lonely soul was all I sought,
And deem'd the task a joy beyond compare;
But brightening youth sought brighter spheres than this,
To bask in beams of social love and bliss.

I loved a maid, for long my heart had yearn'd
On some pure breast to breathe the balm of love;
"I'm thine," she sigh'd, how warm my bosom burn'd
With, joy of joys! the joy of saints above;
No purer bliss a mortal mind can move,
Than blest my breast that e'en in Avon grove.

From countless cups I've sipp'd the sweets o'joy,
I've woo'd an' won the pleasures of applause,
The charms of music, pride of tinkling toy,
I've found them fleeting, fading as their cause;
But joy the purest, unalloy'd bliss,
The dearest, rarest, Marion's maiden kiss.

Her maiden kiss, that e'en in Avon grove,
The stream of bliss that flows from mutual love,
'Tis dearer, far, than all the joys of earth,
In lordly hall, or lowly humble hearth;
A sacred stream, its fountain-head above,
A glorious gleam of heavenly light is love;
The flash of fame may fade with earthly years,
But love's pure flame shall light eternal spheres.





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