While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut and lips meet!
HUMILITY
What girl but, having gathered flowers,
Stript the beds and spoilt the bowers,
From the lapful light she carries
Drops a careless bud?—nor tarries
To regain the waif and stray:
"Store enough for home"—she'll say.
So say I too: give your lover
Heaps of loving—under, over,