Classic Poem

The day has smouldered in the west,
Each bird long since has found its nest;
But as for me, I am so blest
I can not give myself to rest,
Thinking, perforce, of only this—
So slight a thing—his melting kiss.

He paused just here, outside the door;
I thought to see his face no more;
My heart was aching to the core.
“Good-by”—he'd said it once before.
“Through good-bys many a life's undone.”
I spoke, “Why give me more than one?”
He paused and turned, and gave me this—
It burns yet on my mouth—his kiss!

My lips are sacred now henceforth,
Perhaps before of little worth;
They have grown precious through long dearth
And waiting for this crown of earth.
What hours I spent, nor dreamed of this.
To find my whole world in a kiss!