Classic Poem

Tenderly as a bee that sips,
Your kisses settle on my lips,
And your soft cheek begins to creep
Like the downy wing of Sleep
Along my cheek, and nestles smiling,
As if Love's truth were but beguiling,
Too utterly content to move,
Only to smile, only to love.

But if, to tease you, as I use,
I feign, unthankful, to refuse
Your dear caresses, and turn cold,
Then the shy lips, waxing bold,
Advance to vanquish my resistance,
And, with a passionate persistence,
Clinging closer, fold on fold,
They suck my lips into their hold.

And, if, still feigning, I resist,
Fondly feigning to be kissed,
They wax still bolder and begin
Hungrily to fasten in
Upon my neck, as they would gloat
On the protesting veins that tingle
As they and your deep kisses mingle,
Your kisses burning in my throat.

But ah! if, lastly, I should hear
Your sudden lips upon my ear
Set my brain singing and my blood
Dancing the measure of your mood,
And pouring over me and under
Scented billows of soft thunder,
I yield, I'll love you, lest it be
I die of you ere you of me!