And, though a transient bliss,
The proudest, coldest heart must feel
The rapture of a kiss.
A kiss! yes, ’tis a dear delight,
Whose memory often cheers,
And sheds through clouds a radiance bright,
In scenes of after-years.
When sorrows o’er the bosom roll,
Who hath not felt a bliss
Spread swiftly through the glowing soul