Make Believe Though to millions they amount, Every moment—and again! Give me kisses! All is waste Every moment and again! Give me kisses! Though their worth Far exceeds the gems of earth, Never pearls so rich and pure Cost so little, I am sure. Every moment and again! Give me kisses! Nay, 'tis true I can pay you back, you know, Every moment-and again! 665 John Godfrey Saxe (1816-1887] MAKE BELIEVE Kiss me, though you make believe; You are kissing to deceive: Let the tide one moment flow Backward ere it rise and break, Only for poor pity's sake! Give me of your flowers one leaf, Just a moment, though, the while, I should feel and almost know Whisper to me sweet and low; Just a moment, though 'tis plain You are jesting with my pain. Alice Cary [1820-1871] KISSING'S NO SIN SOME say that kissing's a sin; But I think it's nane ava, For kissing has wonn'd in this warld O, if it wasna lawfu' Lawyers wadna allow it; If it wasna holy, Ministers wadna do it. If it wasna modest, Maidens wadna tak' it; If it wasna plenty, Puir folk wadna get it. Unknown TO ANNE How many kisses do I ask? First, sweet Anne, will you tell me William Stirling-Maxwell [1818-1878] Phillis and Corydon SONG THERE is many a love in the land, my love, Then kill me dead with your love, my love, So kill me dead and cover me deep In the darlingest tomb of lovers. 667 Joaquin Miller [1841-1913] PHILLIS AND CORYDON PHILLIS took a red rose from the tangles of her hair,Time, the Golden Age; the place, Arcadia, anywhere,— Phillis laughed, the saucy jade: "Sir Shepherd, wilt have this, Or"-Bashful god of skipping lambs and oaten reeds!—"a kiss?" Bethink thee, gentle Corydon! A rose lasts all night long, A kiss but slips from off your lips like a thrush's evening song. A kiss that goes, where no one knows! A rose, a crimson rose! Corydon made his choice and took-Well, which do you suppose? Arthur Colton [1868 AT HER WINDOW "HARK, HARK, THE LARK" From "Cymbeline" HARK, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise. William Shakespeare [1564-1616] "SLEEP, ANGRY BEAUTY” SLEEP, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me! Those lips shut up, that never kindly spoke: My words have charmed her, for secure she sleeps, Dreams often more than waking passions move. Plead, Sleep, my cause, and make her soft like thee: That she is peace may wake and pity me. Thomas Campion [ ? -1619] MATIN SONG RISE, Lady Mistress, rise! The night hath tedious been; Nor slumbers made me sin. Morning Is not she a saint then, say, Thoughts of whom keep sin away? Rise, Madam! rise and give me light, For the gray morn breaks from thine eyes. 669 Nathaniel Field [1587-1633] THE NIGHT-PIECE: TO JULIA HER eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. No Will-o'-the-wisp mislight thee, Not making a stay, Since ghost there's none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber: The stars of the night Will lend thee their light Like tapers clear without number. Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me; Thy silvery feet, My soul I'll pour unto thee. Robert Herrick [1591-1674] MORNING THE lark now leaves his watery nest, |