THE KISS AT THE DOOR.
When I took my leave last night,
Nellie—she could do no more—
Softly brought a candle-light
Just to show me to the door.
How it was I cannot tell,
When I felt her hand in mine,
Something said, “Why not as well
Press her pretty lips to thine?”
Then I clasped one hand quite tight,—
T’other held the light, you know,—
So that Nellie, helpless quite,
Felt she couldn’t say me “No.”
But she gave a little scream,
That did ne’er the bliss deny;
And—too brief the happy dream—
In went she, and out went I.
