Classic Poem

For Loves-sake, kisse me once againe,
I long, and should not beg in vaine,
Here's none to spie, or see:
Why doe you doubt, or stay?
I'le taste as lightly as the Bee,
That doth but touch his flower, and flies away.
Once more, and (faith) I will be gone,
Can he that loves, aske lesse then one?
Nay, you may erre in this,
And all your bountie wrong:
This could be call'd but halfe a kisse.
What w'are but once to doe, we should doe long.
I will but mend the last, and tell
Where, how it would have relish'd well;
Joyne lip to lip, and try:
Each suck others breath.
And whilst our tongues perplexed lie,
Let who thinke us dead, or wish our death.