TO BEAUTIFUL EYES .
Oh, if I thine eyes might kiss,
And my kisses were not crimes,
I would snatch that honeyed bliss
Full three hundred thousand times!
Nor should these a surfeit bring,
Not though that sweet crop should yield
Kisses far outnumbering
Corn-ears in the harvest-field.
Oh, if I thine eyes might kiss,
And my kisses were not crimes,
I would snatch that honeyed bliss
Full three hundred thousand times!
Nor should these a surfeit bring,
Not though that sweet crop should yield
Kisses far outnumbering
Corn-ears in the harvest-field.