The question of feet or mouth is threshed out minutely by the two contending parties, who at last agree in the opinion that one ought to kiss both parts, beginning with the feet and ending with the mouth.
It cannot be denied that Thibaut de Champagne has a far better insight into the matter than Von Logau, and yet even the old French poet’s point of view must be characterised as being somewhat narrow.
All the other poets, you must know, teach us that not only the mouth, but every part of our sweetheart’s body says, “Kiss me.”
Friends, if it only were my fate!
If fate would will it so,
I’d kiss her beauties small and great
From bosom down to toe.
W. F. H.
So sings Aarestrup, and he returns again and again to the same idea in his ritorneller:
When scarce the mouth can longer feel such fooling,
Because thy lips are all too hotly burning,
Press them to bosom’s Alpine snows for cooling.
The arms so white and tender woo caresses;
A lovely pleasance, too, those plump white shoulders!
But through the soul a bosom-kiss straight presses.
Her snow-white shoulders! All what may be said on
Such beauty I have uttered. For my guerdon
Grant me one now to rest my weary head on.
At kisses pressed upon your neck’s fair closes
You thrilled and threw your head back, and I straightway
Planted upon your throat my kisses’ roses.
About my darling I am wheeling, flying,
Like to a gadfly round a lily’s chalice,
Buzzing until in nectar-cup mute dying.
W. F. H.