KISSING.
O kiss! which dost those ruddy gems impart,
Or gems, or fruits, of new found Paradise;
Breathing all bliss and sweet'ning to the heart;
Teaching dumb lips a nobler exercise.
O kiss! which souls, ev'n souls, together ties
By links of love, and only nature's art;
How fain would I paint thee to all men's eyes.
Or of thy gifts, at least, shade out some part.
But she forbids, with blushing words, she says,
She builds her fame on higher-seated praise;
But my heart burns, I cannot silent be.
Then since (dear life,) you fain would have me peace,
And I mad with delight want wit to cease,
Stop you my mouth, with still, still kissing me.
SIR P. SIDNEY.