 | Rhapsodies |  |
136
A LOVER's KISS.
One morn, as to a rosy bowerSly Cupid stray'd to cull a flower;
A bee, like him with fragrance charm'd—
Like him with sweets and arrow arm'd—
To taste the dew had thither flowm,
And claim'd the honey as his own.
The fly, indignant thus to see
The urchin strip his fav'rite tree,
Stung deep his lip—the anguish thrill'd,
Though on the wound his sweets distill'd:
He stamp'd and rav'd; but all was vain,
Till lovely Venus sooth'd his pain;
Whose mouth from his the venom drew,
But with it suck'd the honey too:
Since which, to lovers, all of bliss
Concentrates in a rapt'rous kiss.
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