And pout those coral lips of thine,
And breathe the turtle’s kiss on mine;
Deep on my heart you print that kiss,
You melt my wildered soul in bliss.
Ah, softly, girl! thy amorous play
Has sucked my very blood away!
Hide thy twin bosom fruit, just shown
Milk-ripe above thy bursting zone;
Such sweets, as India’s summer gale
Wafts from her spice-beds, they exhale.”