And drink thy breath in melting twine,
My soul then flutters to my lip,
Ready to fly and mix with thine.”
Plato also wrote:
“My soul, when I kissed Agathon, did start
Up to my lips, just ready to depart.”
“Oh! on that kiss my soul,
As if in doubt to stay,
Lingered awhile, on fluttering wing prepared
To fly away.”