And let me lowly nestle in thy heart;
Then turn those soul-lit orbs on me, and press
My panting lips, to taste the ecstasy
Imparted by each long and lingering kiss.”
Alexander Smith seems to have been electrified by a kiss; one made him feel as if he were “walking on thrones,”—a figure quite as remarkable as the old deacon’s, who, upon taking too much apple-brandy, likened his sensations to being on top of a meeting-house and having every shingle turned into a Jew’s-harp. But let us hear Alexander:
“My soul leaped up beneath thy timid kiss,
What then to me were groans,
Or pain, or death? Earth was a round of bliss,
I seemed to walk on thrones!”
