Thy breast.
And sometime, too, so reverently
Thou couldst not, Sweet, refuse my plea.
I’ll kiss the dimple that I know
Betwixt those little hills of snow
Waits, till my lips press passionately
Thy breast!...
Thy breast.
And sometime, too, so reverently
Thou couldst not, Sweet, refuse my plea.
I’ll kiss the dimple that I know
Betwixt those little hills of snow
Waits, till my lips press passionately
Thy breast!...