The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
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TO A FRIEND
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 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
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TO A FRIEND
WHO ASKED THE AUTHOR'S OPINION OF A KISS.
“What is a kiss?” 'tis but a seal
That, warmly printed, soon decays;
'Tis but a zephyr taught to steal
Where fleeting falsehood, smiling, plays.
That, warmly printed, soon decays;
'Tis but a zephyr taught to steal
Where fleeting falsehood, smiling, plays.
The breeze will kiss the flow'r—but soon
From flow'r to weed inconstant blows:
Such is the kiss of love, the boon
Which fickle fancy oft bestows.
From flow'r to weed inconstant blows:
Such is the kiss of love, the boon
Which fickle fancy oft bestows.
A perfum'd kiss once Venus gave
The rose that caught her lover's sigh;
That rose with ev'ry gale wou'd wave,
At ev'ry glance of morning die:
The rose that caught her lover's sigh;
That rose with ev'ry gale wou'd wave,
At ev'ry glance of morning die:
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Would give its radiance to the beam
Which glowing noon promiscuous threw;
Or to the twilight's parting gleam
Would yield responsive tears of dew.
Which glowing noon promiscuous threw;
Or to the twilight's parting gleam
Would yield responsive tears of dew.
Oft to the bee its love would give,
And breathe its odours wild around;
With honied sweets bid pleasure live,
Or with its hidden mischiefs wound.
And breathe its odours wild around;
With honied sweets bid pleasure live,
Or with its hidden mischiefs wound.
This rose was white, and to be blest,
Around it insect myriads flew,
Charm'd by the wonders of its breast,
Thrice essenc'd in the summer dew.
Around it insect myriads flew,
Charm'd by the wonders of its breast,
Thrice essenc'd in the summer dew.
But when the lip of beauty shed
A rival sweetness on that breast,
It blush'd, and droop'd its fragrant head,
Asham'd to be so proudly blest.
A rival sweetness on that breast,
It blush'd, and droop'd its fragrant head,
Asham'd to be so proudly blest.
Its colour chang'd, a crimson glow,
Fix'd on its alter'd form, appears;
While round the sighing zephyrs blow,
And nature bathes its leaves in tears.
Fix'd on its alter'd form, appears;
While round the sighing zephyrs blow,
And nature bathes its leaves in tears.
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Then, does not ev'ry kiss impart,
In magic thrills of speechless pleasure,
Reproaches to the wand'ring heart,
That knows not how to prize the treasure?
In magic thrills of speechless pleasure,
Reproaches to the wand'ring heart,
That knows not how to prize the treasure?
O yes! then let my bosom prove
No throb—but friendship's throb divine;
And let the kiss of fickle love,
Capricious monitor,—be thine!
No throb—but friendship's throb divine;
And let the kiss of fickle love,
Capricious monitor,—be thine!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |