TO CHARIS.
[Begging another kiss, on condition of mending the former.]
For Love’s sake, kiss me once again;
I long, and should not beg in vain;
Here’s none to spy or see:
Why do you doubt or stay?
I’ll taste as lightly as the bee,
That doth but touch his flower and flies away.
Once more, and, faith, I will be gone:
Can he that loves ask less than one?
Nay, you may err in this,
And all your bounty wrong:
This could be called but half a kiss;
What we’ve but once to do, we should do long.
I will but mend the last, and tell
Where, how, it would have relished well;
Join lip to lip, and try;
Each suck the other’s breath,
And, whilst our tongues perplexed lie,
Let who will think us dead, or wish our death.
Ben Jonson.
