And now, as fond memory, with tints bright and rare,
Paints thy rich coral lips as Love hovers there,
I ask but one boon may be granted to me,—
That I, like the oak, may forever shield thee.
III.
You kissed me, and responsively my lips to yours were pressed,
While trembling came a long-drawn sigh deep from that throbbing breast.
Your cheeks were bathed in blushes, while those pouting lips revealed
That secret I had burned to know, yet you’d so long concealed;
You loved me. With what ecstasy did I your form embrace,